


Our Side: Ye Saga Continues

by Julia_Skysong



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Crowley is Good With Kids (Good Omens), Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Ineffable Bureaucracy (Good Omens), Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Lost Memories, Multi, Mutual Pining, Second Antichrist, Second Apocalypse, gender fluid crowley, im horrible with tags guys, non-binary Beelzebub once they figure it out, sort of fake relationship but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-10-24
Packaged: 2020-10-13 07:28:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 92,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20578751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Julia_Skysong/pseuds/Julia_Skysong
Summary: An angel, a demon, two antichrists, a cute hellhound, and a duck are all that stand against the second apocalypse. For Crowley, a second chance not to mess things up, until nightmares from hell begin to haunt him. Featuring two Ineffable Idiots who don't realize they're in love when everyone, God Herself, and the Bentley can see it. Rated Mature for language and sexual implications but nothing too graphic.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: Hey guys! Welcome to my very first Good Omens fanfic. I am super obsessed with this show. I'm ignoring SO MANY other writing projects that I should be working on so that I can write this fic. Anyway, here's a couple of things to know before we begin.
> 
> 1\. This used to be listed on Fanfiction.net under my old writer's name Ruth Joyce. BUT somebody I know in real life found my story and they're a bit homophobic so I had to delete it before they read more. So now I have a new account and I hope it's not too confusing. But yeah, it's still me and it's the same story.
> 
> 2\. I am horrible at writing prophecies. In my excitement at writing this, I also momentarily forgot that she didn't write in rhyme...but I didn't want to delete the first two prophecies that I had SO PAINSTAKINGLY tried to write. So roll with it, k?
> 
> 3\. Also horrible with Old English. So I did my best.
> 
> 4\. I'm American so I might use the wrong vocabulary or assume something is the same in England as it is here. Sorry!
> 
> 5\. If you're an artist and you see a scene you'd like to draw, PLEASE DO IT AND THEN TAG ME ON TUMBLR (julia-skysong-fanficauthor) Seriously, it'd make my day. Or week. Or year.
> 
> 6\. I do not own any of the characters mentioned in this story except for a few random extras and Debbie. All rights to Good Omens belong to Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett.
> 
> 7\. Grab some tea and enjoy!

_Three Months After Almost-ageddon.___

_ __ _

Aziraphale was painstakingly dusting the bookshelves, the first time since the Almost-ageddon as he and Crowley had deemed it. When it had first re-appeared, there weren't any traces of dust or soot, nor the smell of smoke. He was extremely grateful, as even thinking about the fire pained him. As he had explored the shop, he had come across numerous new works that he had never seen before, and had been slowly working his way through the new collection. Of course, he had so throughly enjoyed himself that had completely forgotten to dust in the last three months, and it wasn't until Crowley had pointed it out a few days ago that he had even noticed it had gathered.

The door chimes tinkled merrily and he glanced over his shoulder with a smile, fully expecting to see Crowley, who had started dropping in a bit more regularly than before. To his slight disappointment, it was only a postman.

"Mr. Aziraphale?" he asked casually. The angel nodded slightly in confirmation. "Package for you."

"I don't believe I was expecting anything?" Aziraphale said cautiously, wary of a trap of some sort from heaven. He was still a bit shaken from the trials.

The postman shrugged. "It might be some sort of gift," he said. "There were very specific instructions as to the day and time it was to be delivered."

Carefully, Aziraphale opened the package, revealing the contents to be a very old manuscript entitled "The Further Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutte Concerning the World That Is To Comer: Ye Saga Continues. Volume 2." He felt an odd mixture of excitement and dread all at once.

"Agnes Nutter," he said to the postman. "Of course. Nothing out of the ordinary at all."

"Right," the postman said, slightly confused. "Good day, then."

"Quite so," Aziraphale said softly, gently removing the manuscript from the box.

As soon as the postman had left, he quickly locked all the doors, put up the closed sign, and sat down with a nice cup of tea to begin reading. Reading prophecies, he quickly realized, was much easier when you had already lived through them. He settled deeper into his chair. This might take awhile.

...

The Bentley screeched to a halt outside the bookshop and Crowley practically fell out, pushing people aside as he scrambled up to the door. It had been a week since he had stopped by, and although he had called a few times and slid a note under the door, the angel hadn't responded to any of his messages. He was also slightly more jumpy after Almost-ageddon, afraid that Above and Below might strike back sooner than anticipated. The locked doors opened before him, almost as if they were afraid of what he might do if they didn't. He caught sight of Zira quickly, and closed the doors behind him in relief. The angel was bent over the desk, reading intently. No crisis, just a bookish angel caught up in the zone.

"No one's seen you in a week," Crowley chastised him lightheartedly, quickly trying to cover his concern. "You didn't even answer my phone calls."

Zira didn't look up, not even registering his presence. Crowley sighed and flopped down in the arm chair, watching him mournfully.

"Seriously?" he asked. "You've been doing this for a week at least, and you can't even say hello?"

He took off his sunglasses and set them on the side table, where a half-empty cup of tea sat cold.

"You can't just disappear on me like that, you know," he said. "Not after Almost-ageddon. For all I knew, you'd been dragged off to Heaven." Still no response. "I was worried," he added, thinking maybe that would get the angel's attention.

He wondered how much he could say before Zira realized he was there. He had played this game before but hadn't pushed it too far. The record was 7 minutes long, but he had mostly kept quiet and hadn't said anything too ridiculous. If ever there was a time he could beat that, this would probably be the moment. Smirking, he took the old tea back to the kitchen. He poured it out and washed it by hand, making sure to make some regular sounding background noises so Zira wouldn't accuse him of just being quiet the whole time. Using powers was cheating in his mind, and although Crowley disagreed he humored him anyhow. He even hummed a tune as he made some cocoa, an old Egyptian tune that he had quite forgotten the name of but never forgot how it sounded. He threw in about half-a-dozen marshmallows and carried the steaming mug back to the desk, setting it down carefully where Zira could clearly see it.

"So I went to check on Adam this week," Crowley said, casually leaning against a window right on the edge of Zira's peripheral vision. "He brought back unicorns."

That part wasn't true, although he had visited Tadfield a few days ago to make sure nothing was out of the ordinary.

"Talked him out of inventing time travel," he added. "Boy that would be a mess to sort out. Although I would like to go back to catch that stray unicorn that ran from the ark."

He stared intently but the angel barely moved, not even to turn a page. Crowley sighed. It had been almost eleven minutes, and though he was tempted to really break the record on this one, it was starting to irritate him.

"So I was thinking of flying around London in full view of everyone, just to mess with people's heads. Want to join me?"

"Zira!" he called, raising his voice a little.

The angel's eyes widened and Crowley froze, momentarily panicking. It was the first time he had ever said it out loud when the angel was present. He didn't even know about the nickname. He was half-hoping to get Zira's reaction to that one. If he didn't like it, Crowley could always say he was just pushing the game farther to see how much the angel wouldn't notice.

After a moment, it became apparent that the reaction was to whatever was in the book, not to Crowley, who sighed with relief. Although…it had felt nice to say it out loud.

"Hey Zira," he said again, this time slightly below normal range. "Guess what, you moron? I've been in—"

Aziraphale suddenly stood with a cry, knocking the mug of cocoa off the desk and sending it shattering to the floor. Crowley cursed and jumped away from the splash. The angel waved his hands and seemed to break out of his reverie, reaching for the phone. Crowley reached out and put an arm on his shoulder.

"Are you alright?" he asked, concerned.

"Crowley!" Zira cried, half-alarmed, half-relived. "How long have you been here?"

"Fifteen minutes," Crowley said. "I broke the record."

"It doesn't count, I had the sound off," he explained. "I muted everything so I could focus."

"What on earth were you reading?" Crowley asked, looking at the book for the first time.

"Agnes Nutter's second work," Aziraphale confessed. "It was delivered this morning."

Crowley shot him a look. "You've been out for at least a week," he said.

"Oh," he said simply, still in a state of shock.

"Which one were you looking at?"

"Number 258 and 261," he said weakly. "Read them together."

Continued Prophecies #258:

_Child born of opposing sides, United pow'rful with her brother, Shalt thus heal the great divide. Demons and angels pother, As former enemies turn the tide._  
__

Continued Prophecies #261:

_Watch thou steppe, those twice Fallen, For the second descendent is borne. Second chances are oft' uncommon, First mistakes do not mourn, For thou shalt be blindsided, Yet I pray you see this clearly. Hell plots war and grime, Retribution comes swiftly, Don't waste thine time.___

Crowley looks from the prophecies back up to Zira, who was staring at him in shock, evidently expecting him to understand instantly.

"Could she maybe not write in riddles for once?" he asked, slightly annoyed and not sure why it was such a big deal.

"Don't you see?" Aziraphale asked desperately. "Second descendent, powerful, hell plotting, second chance…Crowley, from these plus other prophecies there's not doubt about it."

"Doubt about what?" Crowley pressed. He hated it when Zira got into this mode. He got so dramatic and mysterious that Crowley wouldn't be surprised if the angel started speaking in rhymes.

"There's a second antichrist," Aziraphale said, hands shaking slightly. "One born from opposing sides. She should be a sign of peace but hell is going to try and turn her into a weapon."

"Shit." Crowley put the book back on the desk and leaned over it. He had been hoping for a bit more than a three month break before being launched back into celestial warfare. "How do you know they're connected?"

"They're both written in rhyme, which isn't her normal method," Zira explained. "The other ones around it are written in prose."

"So the brother…that's gotta be Adam, right?" he asked, rubbing his forehead painfully.

"Metaphorically speaking, yes," Zira said. "But not biologically. The "sister" has to be born of opposing sides, former enemies and all that. Sort of like if Romeo and Juliet ended happily."

Crowley scoffed. "Right, well that doesn't narrow it down at all."

"But Prophecy 158 does," Zira stressed, flipping back several pages.

Continued Prophecies #158:

_Life beginst in midst of wuther wynd, yet remains undiscovered in chaos. A descendent with life short-lived, yet destruction walks beside her and terror and pain lay in her shadow. Watch the childe closely, for she cometh and goeth quicker than the sun.___

_ __ _

"I didn't really understand until I started cross-referencing it with the original version," Zira explained. Anathema, after some debate, had allowed him to safeguard the original book. "Prophecy 4020 talks about…well, hearts enjoining and fires and…basically Newton and Anathema…getting together at the end of the world," he said hurriedly.

"You don't think…" Crowley said, staring at him calculatingly.

"They are both descendants of opposing sides," Zira sighed. "Witch and witchfinder. It would make sense."

"So…what? We drive over to Tadfield and say by the way, you may be carrying the Second Antichrist?"

"Agnes said we shouldn't waste any time."

Crowley sighed. "I suppose so. Anathema could probably help solve some of these too with all of her experience."

"My thoughts exactly."

"Right. Tadfield it is."

They were on their way a few moments later, after Crowley had miracled away the spilt chocolate and produced a thermos replacement so that Zira could drink it in the car. Zira had thanked him for the gesture, which Crowley had promptly shrugged off, but the Bentley was apparently not wanting to let it go. As soon as Zira turned on the radio, all the music he absolutely did not want to hear started playing.

_ And I need you now tonight, And I need you more than ever, And if you only hold me tight, We'll be holding on forever. _

"What is this?" Zira asked contemplatively, sipping from the thermos.

"Bonnie Tyler," Crowley said, reaching over to change the station quickly. "I had it set to the classics station."

_Here's how it's gonna be: I'm gonna love you, and you're gonna fall in love with me. Yeah...So don't try to run, honey; love can be fun…___

"Never understood American Country," Crowley said, cutting it off abruptly.

"That one was better than others," Zira said. "She had a nice voice."

The classical music station, the one that Crowley considered the true classics, was for some unearthly reason playing the wedding march.

"It's not near Valentine's Day, is it?" Crowley asked.

"It's autumn," Zira said. "Isn't Valentine's one of your inventions?"

"No, but I got credit for it," Crowley cringed as he quickly flipped through Ed Sheeran's Perfect on the pop station.

"We could always listen to one of your CDs," Zira suggested, watching as Crowley glared at the Bentley as The Way You Look Tonight by Frank Sinatra came on the jazz station. "I wouldn't mind trying the Velvet Underground."

"Oh, I moved that one out of the car ages ago," Crowley said. "Didn't want it to turn into Queen."

"Queen's not bad," Zira said, sliding a CD in.

To Crowley's utter dismay, it started playing Somebody to Love, and would not allow him to skip tracks.

"Not much of a romantic, are you?" Zira asked.

Crowley shook his head noncommittally, stuttering. "I'm a demon," he finally managed. "Love is more Heaven's domain."

"You've also lived on earth for 6000 years," Zira pointed out. "And you cared enough about it to stop the Apocalypse. I think you care more than most demons."

"You care more than most angels," he replied.

"In 6000 years, you never got…attached to anyone?"

"Humans have really short lifespans," Crowley stammered. "Best not to."

"Right," Zira said, looking out the window.

They rode the rest of the way in silence, Crowley inwardly kicking himself and wondering if he had screwed up yet again.

...

Newt was a surprisingly good cook, and at the moment he was teaching Anathema how to make his mother's banana bread. Anathema was quite enjoying normal life, learning so many things she had never had time for in the pre-Armageddon days. They had just slid it into the oven and set a timer when there was a knock on the door. Anathema opened it to reveal Crowley standing on the doorstep.

"Greetings you who are highly favored, the Lord is with you!"

"Crowley!" Aziraphale admonished from behind him, carrying a box from the car. "Please do not do a re-enactment, I am begging you."

Anathema raised an eyebrow, grinning slightly. "Hi Aziraphale. Weren't you just here, Crowley?"

"Yeah, I had to come back on an urgent matter," he said, putting on a look of faux seriousness.

"You didn't tell me you'd been to Tadfield," Aziraphale huffed.

"I tried to call you but you wouldn't answer," Crowley shot back.

"Come on in," Anathema invited, laughing quietly to herself.

"Oh, it smells delightful!" Aziraphale exclaimed.

"We just put banana bread in the oven," Newt explained.

"I never liked bananas," Anathema said. "But then he told me about his mother's recipe and suddenly it sounded amazing."

Aziraphale and Crowley exchanged a meaningful look.

"So about that urgent matter," Aziraphale said, quickly moving on. "I got a delivery this morning…"

"Last week," Crowley reminded him.

"Right. Last week."

He pulled an old manuscript from the box and set it on the table. Anathema gasped and took a step back in shock.

"How did you get this?" she demanded. "We burned it!"

"You what?!" Aziraphale exclaimed, positively horrified.

"I didn't want my life to be ruled by prophecies anymore," Anathema said defensively. "I wanted to have a normal life where I wasn't a descendant."

"Oh," Aziraphale said, seemingly calm again. "That explains number 27 then."

"I won't help you decipher it," Anathema said. "I'm through with Agnes Nutter."

"Unfortunately she's not through with you," Crowley said. "Even if you don't read the prophecies you're still going to…"

"Crowley!" Aziraphale warned, shooting him another look. "Please let me do the explaining."

Crowley raised his hands in a surrender and took a step back.

"I've been reading through these for the last week," he began. "There are some things that none of us can avoid…whether we read them or not," he nodded at Crowley in acknowledgement.

"Like what?" Anathema said irritably. "Can't we just let things happen to us without knowing ahead of time?"

"Not when it involves a second antichrist."

"Second?" Newt asked.

"A second child is born," Aziraphale said, showing them the prophecy. "Hell is going to try and lay claim over the girl from the moment she's born." He showed them Prophecy 158.

"It's not my problem," Anathema said. "I mean, if you think it's Adam's kid, then sure, maybe when we get to that point. But he's only 11, so we've got plenty of time."

"The thing is," Aziraphale tried to explain gently. "It might actually be your problem."

"I told you, I'm not doing any more of Agnes' deeds, even if she tells me to," Anathema said.

"Anathema…" Newt said slowly, reading #158 in stunning realization.

Aziraphale took out the original book and found Prophecy 4020, putting the two together. "Let hearts enjoin, there are other fires than mine; when the whirl wind whirls, reach out one to another."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Anathema asked, blushing.

"Life beginst in midst of wuther wynd, yet remains undiscovered in chaos," Newton read from #158. "Oh god…"

"Eh…not quite," Crowley said.

"What?" Anathema asked, exasperated.

"I may be reading too far into this," Aziraphale admitted. "I might be going down the completely wrong path, but…"

Anathema blinked slowly, trying to comprehend.

"You never liked bananas?" Newt asked cautiously.

"No…" she gasped, the puzzle pieces falling into place. "No, no, no, no, NO."

"Fear not?" Crowley offered up weakly.

"No!" she cried. "You must be wrong."

She started flipping through the pages of the book, frantically looking for something, anything that might disprove their theory.

"Anathema, there's a quicker and simpler way to find out," Aziraphale said, miracling a pregnancy test into existence.

Anathema stared at him for a long moment. Finally, hands shaking, she snatched the test and stormed out. Newt sat down at the table heavily.

"I don't think she would have done it if the prophecy hadn't told her to in the first place," he sighed.

"Well, one never knows what one will do in those situations," Crowley said.

Aziraphale looked slightly confused, which Crowley couldn't see from his position.

"We were thinking opposing sides could mean witch and witchfinder," Aziraphale offered a moment later.

Newt looked at the prophecy and nodded. "Could be." He paused a minute, thinking. "Although, the world was ending. Probably several old enemies that reconciled last minute, right?"

Crowley shrugged. "Maybe."

"I mean, surely we weren't the only two people on the planet that day who…"

Adam burst through the back door, interrupting them. "Hey, I've been knocking for like two minutes," he said. "Anathema said to drop by for banana bread this evening."

"In the oven," Newton said.

"That's alright, the others are still on their way over. Hi Crowley, hi Aziraphale."

"Adam," Crowley said cheerfully. "Your parents wouldn't have mentioned a new sibling coming soon, would they?"

"No?" Adam said. "I don't think they can have any more children. I was kind of their miracle baby."

Crowley grimaced, feeling guilty that Adam had not, in fact, been the actual miracle baby in any way, shape, or form thanks to him. "No, don't say that. Please don't say that," he begged.

"Sorry," Adam grinned, not realizing what he had said. "Why did you want to know? And what are you doing back here so soon?"

"New prophecies," Aziraphale said. "New antichrist we have to track down."

"New what?" Adam asked, startled.

"Yeah, apparently hell's not too pleased that we "corrupted" you," Aziraphale said. "They're trying to have another go at it."

Adam stared at them, jaw dropped. "So we have to fight again?"

"At some point," Aziraphale said.

"In about six months if my math is correct," Crowley said.

"We don't know if…" Newt said.

"It doesn't matter who it is, we know when it happened," Crowley said.

"There are any number of storms on any given day all over the world," Newt argued. "Therefore we can't necessarily prove it was during Armageddidn't."

"Arma what?" Aziraphale asked.

"Armageddidn't," Adam said. "That's what we decided to call it."

Crowley looked over at Aziraphale. "That's better than Almost-ageddon."

"No it isn't!"

"It rolls off the tongue easier."

Aziraphale glared at the demon.

"What does Anathema say about it?" Adam asked.

"She calls it Armageddidn't," Newt said.

"No, I mean about the prophecies. Where is she anyway?"

At that moment, Anathema walked back in, tears streaking her face, and laid the test down on the table. It was positive.

"Oh no," Newt moaned, facepalming into the table.

"What?" Adam asked, looking around the room and still feeling a bit behind.

"We found the second antichrist," Aziraphale said softly, looking apologetically at Anathema.

She spit at the manuscript, causing Aziraphale to cry out in alarm. "Bitch," she growled in a hoarse tone.

"She didn't dictate the future, only recorded it," Crowley said gently. Aziraphale had quickly snatched the books away from Anathema and miracled away the spit.

"I'm tired of being a pawn in this game," Anathema whispered angrily.

"Aren't we all," Aziraphale sighed. Crowley looked slightly surprised at his response.

"So Hell's armies are going to come try and kidnap her as soon as she's born?" Newt asked.

"Probably," Aziraphale sighed.

"If I just die will that change anything?" Anathema asked.

"Anathema!" Newt said, shocked by the question.

"If that really is another antichrist, it probably won't let you," Crowley said. "I'm not quite sure…Adam was more delivered in a basket so I don't really know much about the whole pre-antichrist-birth stuff."

"I was what?" Adam asked. "What the hell, man? You didn't tell me that!"

"Language!" Aziraphale cried.

"I was going to tell you eventually," Crowley said lamely. "That's not the point right now, though. The point is we have a much more advanced heads up thanks to Agnes, who we did not have when Adam was born. This time, we will NOT switch any babies whatsoever, we will not LOSE any babies AT ALL, and we will DEFINITELY outright defy orders from both heaven and hell to make sure this baby ends up just as well off as Adam did, or BETTER."

"Sorry," Adam said. "Did you say switching and losing?"

"Did you not tell him anything?" Aziraphale asked.

"Yeah, I didn't see you telling him anything either, did I?" Crowley sassed. "The point is, yes, I most definitely screwed up the first time around, but that ended up being for the best since neither heaven or hell knew where Adam was so there weren't any horribly manipulative influences from either side. The point is that this time, I will NOT mess this up. So, the next question is this." He turned to Newton. "Know anyplace we can rent around here?"

Newt blinked, surprised at the seemingly sudden turn of events.

"Whoa, wait just a minute," Aziraphale said, stepping in front of him. "Did you say we?"

"Yes. We. You and I are going to stay in Tadfield for the next six-ish months to the foreseeable future."

"But the bookshop…" Aziraphale pleaded.

"Nobody buys your books anyway," Crowley said. "Temporarily close it for a sabbatical, I don't know. Listen, the three of us," he gestured to Adam as well, "have one mission now, and that's to keep Anathema and that baby safe from the forces of heaven and hell. Second chances are oft' uncommon, first mistakes do not mourn, for thou shalt be blindsided. I'm not going to screw this up again, got it?"

Aziraphale nodded mutely. Brian, Wensleydale, and Pepper chose that moment to enter, cheerfully asking for some banana bread but quickly sobering up upon seeing the demon and angel facing off.

"Someone explain it to Them," Crowley said. "I'm going out for a drink."

Aziraphale chased him out the door. "Crowley…" he began.

"You're not invited," Crowley said crossly. "I'm not going to continue this argument."

"But…"

"You're not going to change my mind. Now stay here and eat the damn banana bread. I need to think."

Aziraphale watched him walk briskly down the road towards the main center of Tadfield, half-hoping he would turn back and invite him to come along anyway. But Crowley never looked back.

"I wasn't going to argue," Aziraphale said softly, turning back as the timer for the banana bread dinged pleasantly.


	2. Chapter 2

_9 Months After Armageddidn't._

The two of them had eventually decided, due to the lack of rental spaces and for convenience sake, to share a small attic apartment close to Anathema's house. Aziraphale had immediately volunteered to take the walk-in closet space for his room. Crowley had protested, saying he really didn't mind, but Aziraphale insisted that it was nice and cozy, which is how his bookshop in London was laid out. Crowley was secretly relieved, as the dark cramped quarters reminded him too much of hell. Big open spaces were more his style. Aziraphale, of course, knew this, which is why he had immediately claimed the smaller quarters. Crowley's bed was placed at the opposite end of the attic, with a small kitchen and table in between. The truth was, even Aziraphale felt a little claustrophobic, and hadn't been in this uncomfortable of a space since the 14th Century. Fortunately, they didn't have to stay in all the time. They visited with Newton and Anathema every day, making sure to alternate with Adam so that one of them was usually hanging nearby.

Aziraphale frequented the local cafes and pubs, but he was disappointed to discover the town didn't have so much as a small library. He convinced Crowley to take him back to London for a day, with Adam staying with Anathema, so he could pick up some books. Leisurely strolls through the countryside generally provided lots of lovely spots where he could sit and read quite comfortably. The evenings, when they had to pretend to be human and return to the attic, were usually spent pouring over the Continued Prophecies, trying to work out possibilities of what they meant. Aziraphale had even started a rough timeline on the wall to try and group similar prophecies together. Agnes had always mixed them up, Anathema said, and they were never in the right order.

Crowley, he knew, spent most of his time patrolling the outskirts of the town, trying to set up protective barriers that would keep the two armies out of Tadfield entirely. Unfortunately, it seemed that someone had anticipated this move and had already set up a counter spell. Crowley returned home every evening even more irritated and discouraged than before. Aziraphale had eventually, around two months in, encouraged him to find some sort of hobby to unwind. Surprisingly, Crowley had turned to cooking of all things, taking lessons from Newton, who also welcomed the distraction from the impending doom of becoming a father to the second antichrist.

Tonight, Crowley was attempting to make sushi as Aziraphale puzzled over prophecies 250-275. It helped to tackle them in small bunches, but it was still incredibly frustrating. He sighed, unable to continue any further as the setting sun reduced the light. He was tempted to miracle some of his own, but Crowley had been cautious about performing miracles, not wanting to draw unwanted attention. Sighing, he folded the notes away and put them in a small trunk that Crowley insisted on keeping all of the sensitive information in. Aziraphale wasn't sure which of the two of them were more obsessive over the prophecies.

"Finished?" Crowley asked.

"For now," Aziraphale said. "Need a break. How's the sushi coming?"

"A lot trickier than it looks," Crowley admitted. "Remember when we got it from Japan in the 17th Century?"

Aziraphale sighed fondly at the memory. "Straight from Matsumoto Yoshiichi himself," he said.

"There was the one with the sword demonstration too," Crowley said. "Was that early 19th?"

"Early 20th, I think," Aziraphale said, rising. "That reminds me, I have something for you."

He reached under the bed in the closet and pulled out a sword. Crowley raised an eyebrow.

"Made you one of your own," Aziraphale said. "I used a little miracle, but I figured it'd be worth it for the upcoming battle."

Crowley took it reverently, swinging it in just the right way to ignite the flames. The blue flames flickered in his serpentine eyes as he grinned in delight. He hadn't had a flaming sword since before the Fall.

"You really didn't have to do this," he said, unable to contain the gratitude in his voice. "Demons aren't supposed to have flaming swords."

"Our side does," Aziraphale said, pulling out his own. "You're not out of practice, are you?"

Crowley grinned and lunged forward, Aziraphale skillfully countering every blow. There was not a lot of room in the apartment, and Aziraphale was about to suggest maybe they should practice tonight in a field while everyone else slept, when somehow the sushi caught fire. Crowley cursed and immediately sheathed his sword, as did Aziraphale.

"Put it out, put it out!" Aziraphale said, knowing better than to get in the way in such a small space.

"I'm trying," Crowley growled as he dashed for a pitcher of water.

"I think this counts as needing an emergency miracle," Aziraphale said.

"Don't!" Crowley said. "I can handle it, it's fine."

Luckily the fire was small and easily extinguished with a few cups of water. The sushi, on the other hand, was a charred, sopping, inedible mess. Crowley frowned, lips scrunched to the side and a look of resigned defeat and disappointment in his eyes.

"Hmm," he sighed. "Sorry."

"It's fine, dear," Aziraphale said, quickly sweeping the charred remains into the bin. "Perhaps we should sword fight outdoors next time, yes?"

"That'd probably be for the best," Crowley agreed.

There was a sharp, quick knock on the door, and Aziraphale answered, hoping the landlady, Flora he thought her name was, hadn't smelled the smoke. To his surprise, it was Pepper who stood on the stairs, the rising full moon illuminating her curls like a halo.

"Adam Jr.'s on the way," she breathed.

"For the last time," Crowley snapped, quickly jumping into action and hurriedly racing around the flat, "it's not Adam Jr.! First of all, it's a girl. Second, it's not Adam's child, it's just a second antichrist!"

"Well last I asked they hadn't picked out a name yet," Pepper huffed.

Aziraphale smiled secretly and slipped her a few pounds when Crowley wasn't looking. A few weeks ago, in an attempt to lighten everyone's mood, he had suggested to Them that calling Anathema's baby "Adam Jr." would absolutely infuriate Crowley. The children had immediately jumped on board and started teasing Crowley whenever they could. Even Newton and Anathema had joined in on occasion. It was, quite possibly, the best prank he had ever pulled on Crowley in their history of 6,000 years.

"Well they'd better think of something quick," Crowley said, shoving random items in the trunk. "Go ahead without me, I'll catch up."

"Are you sure?" Aziraphale asked, grabbing his sword.

"Yes, I'll be fine," Crowley said sarcastically. "Need to find those blasted sunglasses. Just go."

Aziraphale followed Pepper back down the stairs and ran into Flora in the garden.

"Leaving again so soon?" she asked. "You only just got back."

"Friend's having a baby," Aziraphale explained, wanting to get away as soon as possible. She was a nice woman, but prone to chatter.

"Oh, your surrogate. How nice."

"Yes—Wait, what?"

"The baby you and your husband will be adopting. That is why you were only here for a few months, isn't it?"

"Wha-no, no," Aziraphale stammered, shaking his head in confusion. "We're not…we're not together, we're just friends."

"Wait, seriously?" Pepper asked, turning to stare at him. "'Cause we all thought you were."

Aziraphale felt his face reddening. "Well, that situation must be rectified immediately."

"After the baby is here," Pepper said, grabbing his hand and pulling him away from the confused Flora. "Are you joking?" she asked once they were out of hearing.

"What?"

"You and Crowley. You're joking right?"

"No!"

"But you call him 'my dear.'"

"I call everyone 'my dear.'"

"Not as much as him," Pepper teased. "And he calls you 'angel.'"

"I am a LITERAL angel," Aziraphale protested.

"Your his angel."

"Oh…shut up!"

Crowley caught up to them a moment later. "Didn't get very far, did you?"

"Got stopped by Ms. Flora," Aziraphale said, not looking at him.

"Pepper, isn't your house the other way?" Crowley asked.

"Yeah, but I'm coming with."

"Absolutely not," Crowley said, stopping short and holding her back. "Not this time."

"Yes, this time," she shot back, hands on her hips defiantly. "Newton and Anathema are going to be a bit occupied, and who knows when Shadwell and Tracy will get here. You're going to need as much help as you get judging by the armies."

"Armies?" Aziraphale asked, startled. "You mean they're already here?"

"Yeah, you're definitely not going," Crowley said, turning her around. "If they see you…"

"I pretended I couldn't see them and they ignored me," Pepper said. "Don't forget it was me who faced down War on the airbase, you know. I can handle it. Besides, Brian and Wensleydale are already there."

"Actually, they could be a great secret weapon," Aziraphale admitted.

Crowley spun around to face him. "What's wrong with you? We can't send kids into battle!"

"They're kids, Heaven won't hurt them."

"Hell will."

"Not if they don't think they're a threat," Aziraphale countered. "It's worth a try."

"You can't stop me anyway," Pepper said, marching straight ahead.

"I can too, I'm a demon," Crowley yelled, going after her.

"But you won't," Pepper responded without looking back.

Crowley looked at Aziraphale in desperation, begging for help, but the angel just shrugged.

"They'll be fine."

Pepper wasn't kidding when she said they would need help. Outside the cottage, legions of angels and demons stood facing off in the fields, each glaring daggers and daring the other one to back down. Pepper walked straight inside, pretending not to see them, and though the demons eyed her threateningly, they did not attack. Aziraphale purposefully began walking up the path on the side of the demons.

"Well look who it is, the Renegades bothered to show up," Hastur snarled as Aziraphale and Crowley approached the cottage.

"Trying to mess up the plan again?" Uriel asked coldly from the other side of the path.

"Just trying to save the world," Aziraphale quipped back lightly.

Gabriel and Beelzebub stepped in front of them, blocking the door.

"You realize we can't let you in here, right?" Gabriel said, making himself appear just a bit taller than Crowley.

"Obviously," Crowley said. "I wouldn't expect anything that peaceful from you lot."

"You messed up the first one, we're not letting you mess up this one," Beelzebub said flatly.

"Aw, thanks for the vote of confidence," Crowley said.

"Nothing will stop us from getting in once the child is born, you know," she continued. "Not even Adam's protection spell."

"We'll stop you," Aziraphale said matter-of-factly, staring straight into her eyes unfazed.

Gabriel laughed. "You? Just the two of you against all of this?"

"Something funny?" Crowley asked. "Did I miss a funny thing?"

Gabriel ignored him and glanced over at Aziraphale. "As your commanding officer, I order you to…"

"No."

"I'm sorry?" Gabriel scoffed.

"You're not my commanding officer anymore," Aziraphale said.

"What, so you're no longer an angel then?" Gabriel asked. "Have you Fallen? Do you take orders from her now?"

"I take orders from no one," Aziraphale answered, fighting his rising panic at standing up to Gabriel. "I'm not an angel or a demon."

"Neither am I," Crowley added.

"You can't be neither," Beelzebub spat. "There's only two sides."

"Wrong," Aziraphale said firmly. "We've created a third side."

Gabriel raised his hand as if to strike Aziraphale, but Crowley grabbed his arm and threw him backwards into the angelic crowd, hissing protectively as he turned into snake form. Beelzebub didn't have time to react as Crowley wrapped himself around her legs and quickly dragged her back to the demon side. Aziraphale seized the opportunity and darted for the door, leaving it open just long enough Crowley to slither inside before locking it shut. Gabriel glared at him through the paned windows.

"You never were a good angel," he said angrily. "It's about time you Fell."

Aziraphale stood looking at him in shock until Crowley snapped his finger, muting the world outside the house and darkening the windows. He took deep breath and tried to steady his nerves.

"You alright, angel?" Crowley asked after he still hadn't moved.

Aziraphale shook himself back to reality and nodded curtly. "Fine."

He could tell by the way Crowley looked at him that he hadn't believed it, but he didn't want to talk about it.

"Good, you're here," Newton said, coming down the stairs two at a time.

"Hallo, Newt, how's it going?" Crowley asked.

"Newton, please," he corrected wearily. A few weeks ago he'd decided to start going by his full name again, as it sounded better next to Anathema. More scholarly, he'd said. Nobody else had really got on board yet.

"Again, what's wrong with Newt?" Crowley asked. "I've only barely remembered that."

"I'm not a salamander," Newton explained.

"Well you're no Isaac Newton either," Crowley said, taking off his sunglasses. "And believe me, I'd know. I was the one who threw that apple at him, after all."

Aziraphale chuckled softly, knowing Crowley had thrown it in to cheer him up after a run in with Gabriel.

"Anathema's been cursing at me for the last fifteen minutes to see if you can do anything," Newton said, turning to Aziraphale and ignoring Crowley's comment.

"Sorry," Aziraphale said sincerely. "That's out of our league since Eden."

"Could you at least miracle up an epidural?" Newton pleaded. "The midwife couldn't bring one with her."

"Oh, that I believe I can do," Aziraphale said, smiling and pleased to help.

"Did your midwife say how long it would take?" Crowley asked, peering through the darkened windows.

"She said it's progressing fairly quickly, but there's no estimate. I don't think they have that down to a science even for a normal human birth. Second antichrist only complicates the matter," he joked half-heartedly. "The kids are in the kitchen, I need to get back up there. Do whatever you need to do."

Aziraphale followed Crowley to the kitchen, where the Them sat around the kitchen table. Dog thumped his tail cheerfully, glad to see them.

"Right," Crowley said, pulling a large plastic bin from a closet. "I need you all to promise that, no matter what, you'll do exactly as I say with no questions asked. Got it?"

"I promise," Adam and Pepper said instantly.

"I'll do my best," Brian added nervously.

"Aren't you a demon?" Wensleydale asked.

"Er-" Crowley stammered, a little shocked by the unexpected question.

"No," Aziraphale answered for him.

"I'm just saying, if there are hoards of demons trying to break in and steal the baby, how will we know how to trust each other?" Wensleydale asked.

"Because the spell I put over the house would only let them through," Adam said.

Wensleydale looked up at Aziraphale curiously. "Do you trust him?"

"Absolutely," Aziraphale said without hesitation.

"Alright," Wensleydale shrugged. "Good enough for me."

"Good," Crowley said, reaching deep into the bin of supplies.

Pepper smirked at Aziraphale over the table, and he could tell by the Them's expressions that she had told them her epiphany. He sighed. It was going to be a long night.

"Brian, salt," Crowley said, pulling out two massive bags of salt and setting them on the table. "Put a nice solid line across every doorway, windowsill, and walls of the house. Don't forget the attic."

Brain grabbed one of the bags and started with the kitchen door.

"Pepper, you're on candle duty," Crowley said, revealing a garbage bag full of tea candles. "Anywhere there's not an entry way, lay out a semi-circle of candles, then report here when you're done. Adam, keep a lookout and let me know if anything outside changes. Wensleydale, you and Aziraphale are going to set up the Holy Water traps."

"Crowley, if we do all of that while you're still in the house then you'll be killed!" Aziraphale protested.

"Do you trust me or not?" Crowley asked, looking up at him.

Aziraphale swallowed. "Yes. Come on, Wensleydale."

The young boy was quite excited as they set up trigger wires throughout the house, buckets of Holy Water carefully poised by most of the doors and windows. He also had the brilliant idea of filling the humidifiers and essential oil diffusers that Anathema kept, although Aziraphale made him promise not to turn them on until they were actually under attack. As they set up another bucket trap at the top of the stairs, Aziraphale joined Crowley by a window looking out over the front yard. The two armies waited expectantly, immoveable.

"That's a lot…" Wensleydale breathed in awe.

"Yes it is," Aziraphale nodded, looking over at Crowley.

Anathema started screaming and Newton burst out from behind one of the doors.

"We've got an hour tops," he said, sweaty and out of breath.

"And minimum?" Aziraphale asked.

"Maybe fifteen minutes." He looked out of the window and gulped, grabbing Crowley's arm. "You can hold them off, can't you?"

"We're doing our best," Aziraphale said quietly, although the odds were insurmountably stacked against them.

"Promise me you'll protect them," Newton pleaded.

"You're still willing to do whatever it takes?" Crowley asked, turning to face him coldly.

Newton nodded. "Anything."

"They'll be safe," Crowley promised. Aziraphale frowned in disapproval.

Newton darted back inside the room as Anathema continued to scream.

"Can they kill each other?" Wensleydale asked, looking at the two armies. "I mean, can angels and demons die?"

"Yes," Crowley said. "What are you thinking?"

"It'd be easier if there weren't so many," Wensleydale explained. "It'd be easier if they started fighting each other now, instead of waiting. That way more of them might get killed off."

"That…that actually might work," Crowley said, opening the window. He stuck his head out and called out to the two armies. "Oi! Why aren't you lot fighting yet?"

"None of your business, traitor," Beelzebub called back.

"I'm just saying, you've been waiting for this standoff for millennium now. It'd make for a good show to watch while we wait this out."

Aziraphale joined him, looking over at the angels. "It'd be easier to just walk right in and take the baby without having to fight for it," he added. "You wouldn't be putting the humans in danger either."

Gabriel ignored him. The two armies stirred, shifting from one foot to the other as they all went into high alert.

"It's gotta be a trap," Michael whispered quietly to Gabriel.

"I know," he said out of the corner of his mouth. "The problem is if they fall for it."

Crowley waved his hand, out of sight from the window of course, and a few well placed flaming arrows fell into the angels. Chaos erupted as the angels immediately fought back, the demons jumping at the chance to fight. Aziraphale quickly closed the window so as not to get caught in any crossfire.

"Now we're in trouble," Crowley said.

"You did that on purpose!" Aziraphale said. "Did you not want it to happen?"

"Oh no, I did," he nodded. "Wensleydale, send Adam up here. You and Pepper man the humidifiers and get ready to turn them on. Start all the fans in the house, too."

A thunderstorm had appeared out of nowhere, likely created by the angels to mask the skirmish from any nosy humans. Or from the impending arrival of Antichrist No. 2. Aziraphale started toward the bedroom, ready to stand guard against any oncoming attack, but Crowley grabbed his wrist and shoved him into a closet.

"What…?" he started as the door closed behind them.

"Listen," Crowley hissed as he turned on a light, getting right up in his face. "No matter what I say, you have to do it immediately. There won't be time for questions, so I need you to trust me."

Aziraphale swallowed and tried to control his breathing. It was a difficult task, given the adrenaline rushing through his veins and being so incredibly close. "I d-do trust you, Crowley," he managed.

"Promise?"

His eyes were wide, full-on serpentine mode as he often got when stressed. Apparently it was quite a terrifying sight for most people, but Aziraphale didn't understand why.

"I promise," he said softly.

Crowley nodded but hesitated to pull away. He opened his mouth as if to say something else.

"Hey Crowley," Pepper called. "Look what I found!"

Looking slightly disappointed at the interruption, Crowley left swiftly, but Aziraphale waited a moment longer, waiting for his knees to turn solid again. He heard Crowley laughing gleefully and quickly joined them in the hall. Pepper held up four large Nerf water-guns.

"Fill 'em up, get 'em blessed, and pass 'em out to the boys," Crowley said, grinning.

"You called?" Adam said, running up the stairs and carrying Dog so he didn't set off any traps.

"Stand guard outside the door with us," Crowley said. "As soon as the baby's born we're going inside the room itself, but you need to wipe the midwife's memories."

"Why can't you do it?" Adam asked.

"We might be a little preoccupied."

He drew his sword, blue flames glowing, and took up a defensive position on one side of the door. Aziraphale mirrored him. Pepper came back with the water guns a minute later, and Adam took one eagerly, poised at the top of the stairs like a sniper. The battle outside raged, swords grating on swords, arrows whistling over head, and demons screeching with a decidedly unholy pitch that blended with Anathema's. Aziraphale closed his eyes and desperately hoped for more time, more time for the two armies to vanquish each other into oblivion so they might actually stand a chance.

Unfortunately, that did not seem to be part of the Ineffable Plan.


	3. Chapter 3

The incredibly sharp, loud shriek of a newborn baby ripped through the chaos unfolding outside, causing Dog to whine and nuzzle Adam incessantly. The fighting, for a single instant, stopped cold.

"Turn on the humidifiers!" Crowley shouted in the eerie silence. "Get inside, angel."

"What-"

"Inside, now."

Aziraphale stumbled backwards into the room, scanning quickly for any dangers. The fighting had resumed with increased vigor. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Crowley setting up another ring of candles around the door. Newton held their new daughter to where Anathema could see.

"Adam, get this woman out of here," Crowley said, shoving the midwife roughly into the hallway.

He waved his hand and the candles spontaneously ignited. Instantly, Aziraphale felt slightly nauseous.

"Is that hellfire?" he asked weakly.

"We can take it," Crowley said.

"She's here…" Newton cried, showing Aziraphale. "Oh my god, she's here."

"We're still in danger," Crowley warned, eyeing the shaking rafters of the house. "Now that she's born a few scouts might break away from the fighting and try to sneak in solo."

Aziraphale threw off his jacket and loosened his bowtie. It was getting uncomfortably warm. At the same time, Crowley shuddered and grimaced in pain.

"Well that worked faster than I thought," he seethed.

"Please tell me you thought this through," Aziraphale asked.

"About 90 percent of it," he said, shrugging uncomfortably. "Maybe 80. You're fine as long as you don't actually touch any candles. The holy water is penetrating the air."

"If this kills you…"

"Yeah, yeah, I know, you'll never speak to me again," Crowley said, twitching rather violently. "Because you won't be able to find me."

"This is not a joke, Crowley!"

"Neither is she!" Crowley said, pointing to the baby. "Oh, by the way, do you have a name yet?"

"Deborah," Anathema said weakly. "Deborah Ann."

"Deborah Ann Device?" Crowley asked.

"Pulsifer," Newton said. "Sounded better that way. Besides, we are planning to get married if this all blows over."

"Heaven's a good place to get married," Crowley said, shifting rapidly from foot to foot but obviously not finding any relief.

"How are we supposed to fight with you like this?" Aziraphale asked.

"Trust me," Crowley snarled.

"I'm just trying to understand this new plan of yours," he said.

"Crowley…" Anathema moaned from the bed. "Something's wrong…"

Crowley and Aziraphale ran to either side of the bed. They watched as Anathema's throat constricted and her eyes dimmed. Suddenly her back arched and she screamed in agony.

"What's happening?" Newton asked.

"She's being possessed," Crowley said, shaking his head in dismay. "The one thing I can't help with."

He looked up at Aziraphale, who was already doing his best to keep the demon at bay.

"Come on, Anathema, you've gotta fight it," Newton said, leaning close.

"Get back," Crowley said, pulling him away. "They're trying to possess her so they can take the baby."

He looked frantically around the room, mind racing. Dog started barking outside the door, and the rattling doors signaled the approach of even more angry celestial beings.

"Adam, get in here!" he yelled.

Adam, who had only just returned from making sure the midwife got out the back door and would wake up in the morning remembering only bits and pieces of a terrible nightmare, jumped over the flaming candles and landed spider-man style in the middle of the room.

"Is she ok?" he asked in concern as Anathema writhed on the bed.

"She's being possessed. Take care of her, ok?"

"Wouldn't Aziraphale be better at that?" Adam asked.

"He's busy!"

"I am?"

Crowley ran over to Newton. "Time for plan B."

"No…" Newton said, holding Deborah closer.

"Newton, we don't have another choice."

"What plan B?" Aziraphale cried, still trying to protect Anathema.

"TRUST ME," Crowley yelled at both of them.

Crying, Newton kissed Deborah's forehead and handed her to Crowley. Crowley immediately turned around and linked arms with Aziraphale, effectively spinning him away from the bed to face him. Aziraphale blinked, caught completely off-guard and not sure exactly why Crowley grabbed his hand. Before anyone could react, the three of them vanished.

Anathema sat bolt upright, eyes black as she lunged at Newton.

"Get out of her!" Adam yelled, thrusting out his arm like he was a Jedi. He had discovered it was the easiest way to channel his powers sometimes.

Anathema convulsed and dropped to the floor, Newton catching her at the last second so she didn't hit her head. Dagon appeared, sweating profusely and panting at the sudden exposure to the Holy Water.

"Where is the child?!" she snarled, doubling over in pain as he tried to threaten Newton.

"Gone," Newton said, shaking.

"Where?"

"I don't know! Crowley and Aziraphale took her!"

Shrieking, Dagon pushed past Adam and threw herself out the front window.

"The Renegades have taken the child!" she screamed.

"Find them!" Beelzebub screamed.

"Spread out, now!" Gabriel countered. "We have to get them first!"

Within seconds, the chaos had silenced. Adam stood panting, the only sounds from the crackling hellfire flames and the low grumble of thunder. Newton carried Anathema back to the bed.

"That's right, ya bastards, get outta here!" Shadwell's unmistakeable voice yelled.

Adam preemptively caused the doors to swing open, allowing them to enter, all the while keeping a close eye on Anathema.

"Up here!" Newton yelled.

"Watch out for the trip—" Wensleydale started to warn them.

There was a splash, followed by the sound of a shocked Scottish squeal.

"—wire," Wensleydale finished.

"Ah've been hit by Holy Water!" Shadwell said.

"Good thing you're not a demon then," Madame Tracy said smoothly. "Are there any more, dear?"

Wensleydale went in front of them, dismantling all the traps. Tracy immediately rushed to Anathema's side.

"You're too late," Adam said.

"Late?" Shadwell exclaimed. "We weren't late, laddie. We were out running over demons with our car!"

Adam couldn't suppress a grin.

"Call an ambulance!" Tracy said urgently.

"Why isn't she waking up?" Newton asked, worriedly smoothing back Anathema's hair.

"She's in a coma," Tracy said. "Come on, Lance Corporeal, hurry!"

Shadwell quickly pulled out his mobile. "What should I tell them?"

"Home birth, mother in a coma," Tracy said. "Don't mention demons. Adam, you and your friends get this placed cleaned up before they arrive!"

"What will we say if they ask about the baby?" Newton asked quietly.

"Midwife's looking after her and grandma's on the way, I suppose." She looked up at him expectantly. "They had to take her?"

"It was Crowley's plan," Newton said. "He said it could be the only way to keep her safe."

"Where did they take her?"

"I don't know," Newton said miserably. "He wouldn't tell me."

...

The sudden transportation threw Aziraphale to the ground and knocked the wind out of him. He and Crowley had landed in a strange living room.

"What did you do?" he cried, scrambling to his feet. "Where are we?"

"California," Crowley sighed, laying Deborah down in a perfectly placed bassinet.

"America?" Aziraphale said, stunned. "Crowley, we can't just leave them! They were surrounded, they'll die!"

"With you gone, it won't be long before Dagon takes control of Anathema and realizes we've slipped away," Crowley said cooly. "The armies will scatter trying to find us and everyone will be safe."

"Unless Dagon decides to attack them using Anathema's body," Aziraphale shot back.

"I told Adam to take care of it, they'll be fine," Crowley said. "And no one can find us, I've set up multiple spells so they can't know we're here. But the no-miracles rule still holds. I didn't use any even when I was setting up this place, aside from the spells of course."

"So this was your plan, eh?" Aziraphale snapped, feeling the anger rising. "I'm supposed to trust you but you don't even trust me? All of that talk and you couldn't even tell me anything?"

"Newton was the only one who could know," Crowley argued. "It was the safest way."

"You didn't even tell _Anathema_?"__

_ __ _

_ __ _

"I couldn't risk it getting out!"

"How long are we even staying here?"

"A few weeks, at most, maybe months," Crowley said, trying to sound casual.

"We can't just take her away from her parents. What do we know about raising a baby?"

"Excuse you, I was Nanny while you skipped and danced in the sun."

"I was every bit as influential as you were with Warlock, thank you very much."

"Not when he was a baby!" Crowley snapped defensively.

"Well how long can we keep it up?" Aziraphale asked, steering the conversation back to Deborah. "How long do we have to hide her away and pretend the rest of the world doesn't exist?"

"Until they give up looking for her."

"They're not just going to give up looking for the second antichrist!" Aziraphale yelled. "They'll never stop! They could terrorize the world looking for her. What happens then? We just stay here forever?"

"Until she can at least use her powers and help us fight back."

"If we raise her to fight then we are no better than they are! Either side!"

"It's the only way!"

"Well, we thought last time was the only way; how'd raising the antichrist work out for us that time?!"

"I bought us more time to figure something out," Crowley growled, jamming on his sunglasses. "More time to figure out the prophecies at the very least and find something that could help us win. I have a second chance not to fuck things up and I'm not taking any damn chances!"

Aziraphale sighed. He knew, though he never let on, that Crowley always put his sunglasses on when he was feeling particularly vulnerable. He should probably back off, and some part of him knew he was right. Unfortunately, the anger was quickly replaced by panic as he Deborah began crying and he suddenly realized the bassinet was empty.

"Where is she?" he asked, eyes wide.

"What are you talking about, she's right…" He stopped as he turned to look at the cradle. "Oh no. Here we go again."

"We can't do this, Crowley!" Aziraphale said. "We've lost her already!"

Crowley quickly manifested into Nanny Ashtoreth. "Just find her," she said, enunciating every syllable with a clear Scottish accent that was surprisingly calm. "I'm sure she's here."

Anxiously, Aziraphale rushed into the kitchen, opening all the cupboards, oven, and fridge. Crowley calmly made her way around the living room, looking underneath the sofa and behind the bookshelf while calling softly. Her voice even managed to calm Aziraphale, who had secretly missed Crowley in this form. They could hear Deborah's cries but they never came from a particular direction.

"I'll check upstairs," Crowley said. "You look in there."

She pointed to a door on the other side of the living room, and Aziraphale opened it quickly. All thoughts of Deborah vanished the moment he was inside. The room looked originally to be an office or study, but had been transformed into a cozy bedroom/library. Many of his favorite books, including ancient tomes, prophecies, and writings, lined the dark floor-to-ceiling shelves. Upon closer inspection, he realized they weren't just copies of his favorite books, but actually his from the bookshop in Soho. A bed was tucked in one corner of the room, and the window niche was filled with cushions for optimal comfy reading space. The late afternoon light sent a golden haze through the little room, making it look absolutely perfect. It was, without a doubt, meant for him.

_The no-miracles rule still holds. I didn't use any even when I was setting up this place, aside from the spells of course._

Any lingering ill-will toward Crowley melted away.

"There you are," Crowley said gently. "How can I keep you safe if you disappear on me like that? Are you hungry, dear?"

Aziraphale came back into the living room as Crowley came back downstairs with Deborah. She grabbed a bottle of milk from the fridge and started feeding the baby. Surprisingly, after all these years, she was still a natural.

"I'm sorry," Aziraphale sighed. "I shouldn't have reacted that way."

"Adrenaline rush," Crowley said simply. "It affects us all."

"I just wish I had had a bit more warning. Then at least I could have grabbed the prophecies."

"Check the trunk by the door."

Frowning slightly, Aziraphale found a little wooden pirate's chest by the front door. When he opened it, he gasped eagerly and pulled out both the original book of prophecies plus the continued manuscript.

"How did you…?"

"It's linked back to the chest in the attic," she explained. "Anything we put in here will manifest in Tadfield, and vice versa. It's our only communication with the others. No phones, no TV, no radio, nothing that could possibly track us."

"I thought you said no miracles," Aziraphale said teasingly.

"I miracled this back in Tadfield, then brought it here," she said.

"Oh, is this where you were when you left for a week?"

Crowley nodded.

"Thank you," Aziraphale said after a moment. "It really is quite lovely."

"Well, I didn't want to make you too miserable, angel," she said, smiling slightly. Deborah whimpered. "I think it's time this little one had a bath and a good night sleep."

...

Crowley stood over the crib in the nursery for a long time, wanting to make sure Deborah didn't start disappearing again. He had morphed back into his usual form, which he preferred over Nanny Ashtoreth. Not that he minded being Nanny; it had certainly calmed Zira down pretty quickly. He seemed to like his room as well, which, truth be told, had been the room Crowley had worked on the longest.

Satisfied that the baby wouldn't disappear again, Crowley quietly slipped downstairs to find Zira studying at the kitchen table. The timeline had already been hung up on the living room wall, although there was already a new entry.

Continued Prophecies #72:

_Crying babe swiftly moves, taken forceful from thy mother. Amidst grief and war a calming force shalt enter thy strange dwelling, one whoms't is both mother and father. In far away land, the odd family waits for clear skyes._

Underneath was written in Zira's neat script: _C. taking care of Debbie_.__

_ __ _

_ __ _

"Debbie," Crowley said. "I like that. Nice nickname."

"Mmm," Zira said absentmindedly.

Crowley joined him at the table and noticed that he had gone back to Prophecy 261 again. "What's all the stuff about twice Fallen?" he asked.

"Oh, I haven't quite figured that out yet but I'm sure it's nothing to worry about," Zira said quickly, closing the manuscript and carefully putting it away.

"I can tell when you're lying, angel," Crowley sighed.

Zira paused. "Fallen is capitalized. She doesn't do that often but when she does it means something. I think it has something to do with the Fall."

"But twice Fallen?" Crowley asked, confused. "How can anything be twice fallen? Humanity can't fall a second time. There's no where else to go."

"No. I think…" Aziraphale hesitated, hardly able to bring himself to say the words he had been thinking for the last few months. "I think it means me."

"What?" Crowley moved to stand directly in front of Zira, but he still didn't look up at him. "What makes you say that?"

"Well…I've already fallen from Heaven's good graces," he said slowly. "Maybe they'll…they might…"

"Aziraphale, no angel has fallen in SIX THOUSAND years," Crowley said. "Why would they do that?"

"Well…you heard what Gabriel said. 'It's about time you Fell,'" Zira offered, looking up at him at last. His eyes were sorrowful. "Not to mention the prophecy. _Retribution comes swiftly_," he quoted.__

_ __ _

_ __ _

Crowley shook his head, trying to appear nonchalant. "Nah, surely that's not what it means. Can't be. Gabriel just said that. They're probably not connected."

He sauntered into the kitchen and started to make some tea.

"Did it hurt?" Zira blurted out, startling him.

"Did what hurt?" Crowley asked, turning around.

"When you fell from heaven."

"Ah…" Crowley turned back to the tea, trying to hide his sudden redness. He swallowed hard, then remembered that Zira was literally asking because he was also afraid of Falling. "I didn't Fall," he said, managing to recover slightly. "I sauntered vaguely downwards."

"What does that even mean?" Zira sighed. "You say that all the time."

Crowley sighed, wondering what to say. Demons were not very good at giving good advice and even worse at providing comfort. "It means I wasn't forcibly kicked out," he finally admitted. "I just…jumped after the others before I got hurt."

"You still lost…" Zira began.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Crowley said. He spun to face his friend, squinting his eyes sharply. "Do you really want to know?"

Zira swallowed hard. "No," he said after awhile.

"Good," Crowley said. "Because I don't want to talk about it. Besides, we don't even know that's what it means. It could mean something else entirely."

"I know," Zira said, trying to sound cheerful. "Just trying to prepare for everything, that's all. Don't want to be blindsided."

Crowley finished pouring the tea and brought the mug over to the table. It was Zira's favorite, the white one with angel wings.

"Crowley…" Zira said softly.

The demon felt his throat tighten as it always did when Zira used that tone. He slowly raised his eyes until he met the angel's.

"Yes?"

"If I do Fall…" Zira looked down for a moment, then back up at him. "Promise me you'll be there."

Crowley struggled silently for a moment, trying to come with a response and not to give anything away. "I'll catch you," he said at last.

Without another word, he quickly went back upstairs and into his own room, closing the door behind him. His room was as wide and open as his flat in London, one wall made of pure glass so it could double as a greenhouse to his plants. Crowley slithered into the corner of the room and sunk to the floor, pulling his knees close to his chest as he tried to steady his breathing. He couldn't let Zira fall. As misplaced as he was as an angel, he wasn't cut out for a demon either. Losing those beautiful white wings would be devastating, as Crowley knew all too well. He didn't want to watch his friend go through that. It might break him.


	4. Chapter 4

Aziraphale looked around the baby aisle at the grocery store in confusion. Crowley had sent him to get more supplies for Debbie, but there were so many options he honestly had no clue what he was looking for.

"First time?" a man asked.

"Sorry?"

"First baby, I mean," the man said, smiling friendly. "Couldn't help but notice your confusion. I was the same way when my oldest was born."

"Oh…not quite. Just looking after a friend's baby for the week."

"Ah, so you're really not prepared then," the man teased. "I'm Jacob. Need a hand?"

Aziraphale looked the man over, making sure he wasn't an angel or demon in disguise. Satisfied that he was a normal human being, he nodded gratefully.

"So how old is the little one?"

"Only two weeks," Aziraphale said.

"Two weeks? And you're taking care of her?"

"There were…complications," Aziraphale explained.

Jacob's face softened in pity. "Of course. Well, good for you for stepping up and helping your friend. What's the name?"

"Debbie."

"Oh, that was my grandmother's name! Well then, let's get some items for little Debbie."

Grinning at his own joke, Jacob began loading the cart full of supplies Aziraphale hadn't known he needed. Thirty minutes later, they were walking toward checkout, the angel explaining how Aziraphale was an old English name which is probably why Jacob'd never heard of it before, and how Crowley was definitely NOT his partner, but just a good friend. Jacob was just writing down his number in case they needed any more help, when a cold hand landed on Aziraphale's shoulder. He turned, slightly confused, and found himself face to face with Uriel.

"No!" he exclaimed suddenly.

"Sir, you need to come with us," she said in an American accent. Both she and another angel whose name Aziraphale had completely forgotten were dressed in police uniforms.

"Th-there must be some mistake," he stammered.

"Oh, there's no mistake," the other angel said with a sadistic grin.

On instinct, Aziraphale tried to run, but of course they caught him and pinned him to the ground.

"Hey, what are you doing?!" Jacob yelled. "What's he done?"

"Sir, you're under arrest for illegal immigration and child kidnapping and endangerment," Uriel said, roughly snapping on a pair of handcuffs.

"WHAT?" Jacob yelled.

"No!" Aziraphale protested, struggling to get away. "I've only been here a week and I'm taking care of my friend's baby."

"We still need to take you in for questioning," Uriel said.

"You can't do this," Jacob said.

"Sir, you need to step away now," the other angel said, firmly guiding Jacob away.

Uriel dragged a fighting Aziraphale outside, abandoning the cart behind. He tried to miracle himself away, but something in the cuffs must have prevented it. As he was pushed into the back of a police car, he squeezed his eyes shut and mentally screamed.

CROWLEY!

...

Crowley flipped through the pages of prophecies, looking for anything else that mentioned Falling. In reality, they didn't actually need any more baby supplies, he had just wanted to study without worrying Zira. There had to be something else that could help them.

"Come on, Agnes," he moaned, rubbing his eyes. It hurt to read. "Is this all you got?"

Debbie started to cry in the other room. Sighing, Crowley got up to comfort her, only to stare in shock out the window. The barometric pressure suddenly plummeted and the skies darkened instantaneously. A deep-seated feeling of dread crawled from the soles of his feet to the tips of his wings, hidden in the ethereal plane. He checked the clock nervously, realizing Zira should have been back by now.

CROWLEY!

Aziraphale's voice echoed through the house, though he was clearly not there.

"No…" Crowley breathed.

He hurriedly scrawled a note and placed it in the trunk, hoping somebody would find it sooner rather than later.

"Debbie, stay right here," he called as he dashed out the door.

Groaning, Aziraphale opened his eyes and realized he'd been tied to a chair somewhere in heaven. At some point along the way the angels must have knocked him out to stop him from fighting. Gabriel and Michael were watching him disapprovingly.

"You know, it's been awhile since someone rebelled like this," Gabriel said. "Like, 6,000 years I think."

Aziraphale pursed his lips together, determined not to speak a word.

"I mean, messing up the apocalypse not once, but TWICE," Gabriel continued. "That would be rather impressive…if it didn't go against God's plan."

"How do you know…" Aziraphale started, unable to hold his tongue.

"If you talk about the ineffable plan again, I will scream," Gabriel interrupted. "In your face."

"How many humans would have died if we hadn't stopped it?"

"Oh, by "we" you mean you and the demon," Gabriel said.

"Aziraphale, you never were good with philosophy but even you know that consorting with the enemy is never wise," Michael added. "They're tricky. They'll tell you a bit of truth wrapped in a lie."

"Not all of them."

"You really think that in 6,000 years your "friend" never once lied to you?" Michael asked.

Aziraphale thought for a moment. Nothing major came to mind. There were little ones, of course. When Crowley said he didn't care, Aziraphale knew he really did. If Crowley had said he was fine, Aziraphale knew he really wasn't and had always stayed in silent company. But it went both ways as well. For all the times Aziraphale had denied their friendship, knowing how much it hurt Crowley, the demon had always come back to rescue him out of a bind. He had sworn to leave Earth and fly off to Alpha Centurai, but he had come back. He always did, no matter how many times he threatened to. But how could Aziraphale explain this to the archangels? Angels who considered themselves so far above "human" emotions that their relationships with each other were flat and two-dimensional. How could they possibly understand?

"That's what I thought," Gabriel said, misinterpreting the look on Aziraphale's face.

"Now, if you could just tell us where you're hiding the antichrist…" Michael said.

"Debbie," Aziraphale said. "She has a name you know. She's not just a pawn in your cruel game."

"It's not our fault she's an antichrist," Gabriel said. "That's on you."

"Me?"

"If you hadn't messed up the first one so badly, there wouldn't be a need for hell to create another one."

Aziraphale paused for a moment, wondering if maybe Gabriel was right. Maybe they had done the wrong thing. But then he shook his head firmly.

"We saved humanity. Something you clearly didn't care too much about."

"We do care about the humans," Michael started. "But we also care about sealing the demons in hell for all eternity."

"How do you know the "Great Plan" is the only way for that to happen?" Aziraphale asked.

"Because that's been the answer for 6,000 years!" Gabriel yelled. "If you don't stop asking so many questions you're going to Fall and join your little demon friend in hell."

"Please, Aziraphale, just tell us where…Debbie is so we can get there before the armies of hell," Michael pleaded.

"She is in perfectly safe hands, thank you very much," Aziraphale said, frowning in defiance.

"No, I'm afraid she's actually on her own," Michael said. "If you let us help, we can protect her."

"What do you mean, on her own?" Aziraphale asked. "Crowley's with her…"

Michael shook her head. "Hell got him shortly after we got you."

Aziraphale felt physically ill. Crowley must have tried to save him, only to be caught once he left the protection of the house. The words of Prophecy 261 hit him all at once. Those twice Fallen. Not you, those. Plural. It meant both of them. How could he have missed that?

Well, he thought. If we're going to Fall, we might as well do it together.

Michael and/or Gabriel continued to drone on, but the words faded to a dull noise as Aziraphale concentrated all of his energy on miracling up his sword. The ropes, thankfully, did not prohibit miracles, and he had broken free in no time. Stretching his great white wings, he flew as fast as he could toward The Edge, Gabriel in hot pursuit. The element of surprise had worked in his favor; he had almost made it.

Pain suddenly seared through his right shoulder, and he crashed to the ground, screaming in pain. His right wing lay beside him, ashen as the white feathers slowly turned black. Aziraphale scrambled to his feet and limped the rest of the way. Gabriel, sword smoking, and Michael landed just behind him.

"Really, Aziraphale?" Michael asked. "You would Fall just to save him?"

Aziraphale looked over at her defiantly. "Damned if I don't," he seethed. "Besides, I'm not Falling." He swallowed through the pain. "I'm sauntering vaguely downwards."

With that, he leaped off The Edge and started free-falling to Hell. His lone wing, now dark as night, tried valiantly to slow his descent, but it did no good. He crash-landed on a pile of demons, slicing several with his sword. Almost immediately, he spotted Crowley, tied to a chair. He looked like he had taken quite the beating, and his wings were practically falling apart. Aziraphale fought his way over, although the shocked demons were too dumbfounded to start fighting back.

"What are you doing here?" Beelzebub demanded.

"Rescuing my friend," he shouted back, quickly slicing through Crowley's binds.

"'Ziraphale?" Crowley slurred.

Aziraphale helped him to his feet, and Crowley had to lean heavily on him. The other demons finally jolted into action, but Aziraphale swung his sword at them warningly.

"Warning, this will kill you and I won't hesitate to use it," he snapped. "Besides, what more are you going to do to us, eh?" he asked.

Beelzebub held up her hand and the demons held their position, watching her closely.

"Crowley," Aziraphale quietly. "I know your wings hurt but I need every last bit of strength you got to get us the hell out of here."

Crowley nodded painfully. "Three, two, one," he whispered.

Together, they jumped into the air and started flying to the exit. Aziraphale had a hard time holding on to Crowley, who jerked around like a puppet on strings. He had almost no directional control, which was making things interesting. Crowley's arm slipped over the raw skin where Aziraphale's right wing had been, and he shuddered in pain.

"Sorry," Crowley gasped.

Instead of full on chasing them, the demons laughed, sending their whips slicing through the air and catching the escapees ankles and wings. They weren't trying to kill them or even stop them. They were torturing them. It made Aziraphale worry that Debbie had been found.

"Don't let them reach the exit," Beelzebub called in a level tone, not at all worried that her prisoners were escaping.

Crowley groaned and they lost altitude. "I'm losing it, Zira," he gasped.

"Come on, Crowley," Aziraphale said through clenched teeth. "We're almost there."

Crowley tightened his arm around Aziraphale's shoulder and suddenly started flying almost straight upwards.

"What are you—?" Aziraphale started to protest.

"Dive," Crowley hissed. He pivoted mid air, wrapping both arms and wings over Aziraphale's back. "Don't let go," he murmured into the angel's neck as he passed out.

Aziraphale held on to Crowley with everything he had as they dived haphazardly, without wings, towards the exit. Black feathers shredded from Crowley's damaged wings, obscuring his vision. As the wind rushed in his ears, he could hear Beelzebub and the demons shouting and he prayed they would make it.

The transfer back to the earthly plane came sooner than expected, and much more painful than usual. Normally, it felt like gravity shifting from the floor to the ceiling in a graceful flip, maybe producing a little pressure on the ears. This time felt more like a malfunctioning rollercoaster. Aziraphale's one remaining wing burned and tried to stay back in the ethereal, although he could tell no demons had caught him. Together they tumbled and twisted through the air, the angel straining to break through fully. Finally, with a searing burn, he felt his wing ripped from him. Screaming, Aziraphale felt his hold on Crowley slipping as they jerked back onto earth. He panicked for a moment, worrying where they were falling from on earth and worried he wouldn't be able to find Crowley, but they landed only a few feet above the ground.

Aziraphale splashed down in the muddy grass, grabbing fistfuls of it as the true pain began. He screamed in agony as his whole back felt like it was on fire. It was raining, storming more like, but the raindrops did little to soothe the burn. In fact, they made it worse, pelting him and driving the burn deeper into his skin. Aziraphale tried to stand but was so disoriented he couldn't get very far before he fell over again, extremely dizzy. The storm clouds had darkened wherever they had fallen, and he found it difficult to see. He knew Crowley had to have landed nearby, and he knew they had to get out of there quickly before the demons followed.

"Aziraphale!"

Blinking, Aziraphale's vision came into focus on…Adam, who was staring at him in concern. To his surprise, he realized they were outside the California house.

"No!" he yelled, looking back at the unseen portal. "They'll come through, they'll find her!"

"No they won't," Adam yelled over the storm. "She's safe. You take care of Crowley, I'll take care of Hell."

Crowley. Aziraphale looked around frantically, still feeling very out of sorts. A series of lightening bolts illuminated the sky around them, and he could make out Crowley's fallen silhouette lying only a few feet away. Painfully, Aziraphale crawled over to his side, grimacing at every motion.

"Crowley, wake up!" Aziraphale yelled, carefully turning him onto his back so he could breathe.

A wheezing hiss that could barely be called an actual breath seeped from Crowley's mouth, followed by silence. His eyes, Aziraphale realized with a start, were partially open and his face a sickly grey.

"Crowley!"

"Do CPR!" Adam yelled as he waved his arms around do who knows what.

His own pain quickly forgotten, Aziraphale frantically started compressions. When CPR had first been introduced, he had actually attended a certification class, despite Crowley mocking him for it. At the time, he had simply been fascinated with how the human body worked and how the humans had created their own miracles. He had never expected to use it.

"Come on, Crowley," he muttered, wincing as he felt a rib break.

He paused, gently putting their lips together and breathing into him, hopelessly wishing the circumstances were different. He kept pushing on Crowley's chest and found himself praying for a miracle. There was still no movement, even after the second breath.

"Please be alive, please be alive," he whispered.

Three breaths. Thunder crackled angrily overhead. It seemed neither heaven nor hell was too happy with their escape. Four breaths. His own pain was starting to come back, but he pushed through it. It wouldn't matter if Crowley were dead.

Five breaths. Still nothing.

"Adam!" Aziraphale shrieked, growing more and more desperate. "Do something!"

Adam ran over to him, panting from exertion. "I can't! Hell did something to him, I can't make him do anything!"

Six breaths. Debbie's cries pierced through the downpour as she cried hysterically. Adam ran back inside to make sure she was ok, promising to come back and help in a minute. Aziraphale barely heard him, glancing angrily at the dark sky.

"If this is your Ineffable Plan," he growled, "then I'm done."

Seven. A haunting memory of the conversation he and Crowley had years ago inconveniently resurfaced.

_"But it doesn't always work," Crowley had said._

_"Oh, well most of the time it doesn't," Aziraphale admitted._

_"So they're just wasting time pursuing a false hope."_

_"Maybe. Until it does work. Then it really is a like a miracle."_

_"No it's not," Crowley scoffed. "Not when most people die and it does nothing."_

_"But it's beautiful when it does."_

_"Beautiful? Another human life continues on in misery," Crowley said dismissively. "I can't imagine why anyone would work that hard to make sure they live."_

_"Then you don't understand love, my dear."_

Eight breaths. It wouldn't be like that this time. This time had to be one of the few that worked. It had to work. Maybe they had Fallen and become human, but they had been an angel and a demon for 6,000 years. Nine. That had to amount for something. Something had to be different about them. Ten. He didn't know what he would do without Crowley. He certainly didn't know how to take care of Debbie and stop the Apocalypse 2.0.

"Don't do this to me!" Aziraphale yelled, hot tears spilling over. "You're the only thing I've got left, Crowley, you can't leave me!"

Eleven. His arms were getting tired. As much as he wanted to push through it, he realized they were human. They were in pain, and they wouldn't last forever. He remembered what the teacher had said about switching out with a partner, but Adam was inside. Aziraphale paused after the twelfth breath, stretching his arms momentarily and glancing heavenward again.

"Save him," he whispered. "Please."

He started pushing again, a little slower this time. The thirteenth breath came with trembling lips as Aziraphale felt the fatigue overtake him and the adrenaline run out. He pressed down weakly on Crowley's chest, only managing five before collapsing over him on the sixth.

"Come back, Crowley," he whimpered faintly. "I need you."

Then, his ear pressed against Crowley's chest, he heard a very faint breath from deep inside, struggling to reach the surface. It gave him just enough hope, just enough energy for the fourteenth breath, which then turned into an independently triumphant number fifteen. Aziraphale cried in relief as Crowley sat up, coughing and hacking for air. Unable to stop himself even though he knew the demon would hate it, he leaned forward and hugged him tightly. To his surprise, it was gratefully reciprocated.

"Debbie…" Crowley wheezed hoarsely, pulling back after a few seconds.

"Adam's got her," Aziraphale said. "She's safe."

Crowley nodded, blinking quickly. It occurred to Aziraphale that he had never seen Crowley blink before.

"Where are we?" he asked, hands clawing nervously in the muddy grass.

Aziraphale swallowed, telling himself it was just the disorientation he had experienced only a few minutes ago, that the thoughts suddenly racing through his mind weren't what the prophecy really meant.

"California, at the house," he said slowly. "I think Adam brought us here."

Crowley nodded, looking around blankly. A flash of lightening caused Aziraphale to jump, startled, but Crowley didn't react.

"Crowley…" he said, unsure how to ask the question. "Are you alright?"

The demon shook his head, shaking. Aziraphale reached out and grabbed his hand, which Crowley held onto with an unexpected strength.

"I can't see," he gasped. "Whatever they did to me, I can't see. I'm blind."

"For thou shalt be blindsided," Aziraphale whispered. "She meant literally."

Crowley inhaled sharply, bending over double in pain. Aziraphale helped him to his feet and led him inside without another word, setting him gently on the couch.

"Take your shirt off," he said.

"Sorry, what?" Crowley gagged.

"It's soaking wet and you're badly injured," Aziraphale said, not letting on how much pain he himself was in at the moment. "I'm going to whip something up to help."

He passed Adam on the stairs.

"Is he alright?" Adam asked.

"Blind, but alive," Aziraphale nodded. "Would you be a dear and fix up some soup and tea? There's cans in the kitchen."

Adam nodded and scampered off, leaving Aziraphale to contemplate the random medicines Crowley had stockpiled in the bathroom closet. He grabbed a few antibiotics and pain creams and headed back downstairs, pausing sharply on the last step. Crowley rested on the edge of the couch, leaning on his knees for support. His whole torso was a bloody mess of cuts and bruises, skin trembling slightly at the exposure to open air. The joints where their wings had once been had left his skin raw. Aziraphale tried to make himself move forward and act normal, trying to remember that they were both in pain and in need of attention, but hot damn, even injured Crowley looked good.

"'Ziraphale?" he asked, words slurring. "Is that you?"

"Y-yes, sorry," he said, shaking himself free of the trance. "I just…just realized a washcloth would be a good idea."

He ran back upstairs to find one, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror.

"Get ahold of yourself," he whispered sharply.

He pushed all feelings and thoughts aside and tried to concentrate. The immediate danger was over, but there was work to do.

...

Aziraphale winced as Adam carefully applied the healing ointment mixture to his own back. Crowley was asleep on the couch, having already received the treatment and a hearty bowl of chicken noodle soup. Aziraphale was looking forward to a nap of his own, but he had to talk to Adam first.

"What happened?" he asked, holding onto the edge of the kitchen table for support. "How did you get here?"

"Crowley left a note in the trunk," Adam explained. "Brian found it and came running to tell me that you'd been captured and Crowley was going to find you, so I realized I had to come and help."

"Yes but how did you get here so quickly?"

"I climbed through the trunk."

"You what?"

"Well, I had to make it a little bigger, but I figured if letters could pass through alright, then so could humans."

Aziraphale peered into the living room and realized the trunk was definitely larger than before.

"That's very clever. How long are you staying?" Aziraphale sighed, knowing he was right.

"As long as you are," Adam said. "I can't leave you here without protection now that you're human."

Aziraphale sighed. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. There you go, all done now."

Nodding his appreciation, Aziraphale slipped a soft cotton shirt on, opting to go simply for now until the pain subsided. Grabbing a cup of tea, he gingerly sat down in one of the arm chairs in the living room so he could keep an eye on Crowley. Adam sat on the floor with Dog, who whined happily and laid his head in his master's lap.

"What did you do to get rid of the demons?" Aziraphale asked quietly.

"They couldn't follow you," Adam explained. "They only found you by accident the first time, so I just spread your auras around the world, giving them false trails."

"You can do that?"

"I can do anything," he said smugly.

"Oi, don't let that go to your head." The boy grinned. "How's Anathema?"

"Still in a coma," Adam said sadly. "The doctors are confused but they said not to worry since it's only been two weeks."

"Only two weeks? That's not considered serious?"

"They said we should start getting worried if it reached four."

"I do hope she'll be alright. Demon-possessed induced comas are very rare and don't usually end well."

"And Debbie needs her mother," Adam added. "When she does wake up, do you think she could come here?"

"No," Aziraphale said. "Not if the demons still have a sort of link on her. We need to make absolutely sure first."

He glanced over at the prophecy wall, eyeing #72. One whoms't is both mother and father. In far away land, the odd family waits for clear skyes. He hoped Crowley wouldn't have to play both permanently, and that the clear skies meant Anathema would be ok and could take care of her daughter again.

"Flora's caught onto the fact that you've left," Adam continued the conversation. "We told her you had urgent family business and we were taking care of the plants."

Aziraphale smiled slightly. "Good thinking."

Crowley suddenly twitched violently, eyes flying open even though they couldn't see.

"Are you alright?" Aziraphale asked calmly, though he was secretly worried.

"Yeah, yeah, fine," Crowley said, sitting up slowly. "Just leftover adrenaline." He paused, wincing slightly. "What time is it?"

"Around 7:00PM," Aziraphale said.

"Could…could you help me upstairs?" he asked hesitantly.

"Of course," he said, rising quickly. "Don't mind at all."

It was a struggle to get up the steps; Aziraphale forgot to warn him about a few and they nearly fell all the way back down again.

"You know, if it would be easier next time we can switch rooms," he offered. "Then you could have the one downstairs."

"No, that's your room," Crowley insisted with a slight edge to his voice. "I'll be fine up here, I can learn to manage."

"Alright. Need anything else?" he asked as they stopped outside the room.

"No," he said sharply.

Aziraphale sighed, knowing it was just the pain speaking. He turned to leave him alone, but Crowley's hand stretched out wildly, catching his arm.

"Wait," Crowley said. "I'm sorry."

"Whatever for?" Aziraphale asked, confused. It wasn't often Crowley apologized, least of all as sincerely as this.

"For not catching you," he said, voice catching slightly. "When you Fell."

"I didn't Fall, my dear," Aziraphale said, smiling. "I sauntered vaguely downwards."

Crowley managed a small laugh. "That's my line."

"Well, now it's our line."

Still smiling, Crowley let go of Aziraphale and turned back to his room. "Keep telling yourself that. Goodnight, angel."

Aziraphale swallowed, the burning marks on his back reminding him that he wasn't an angel anymore. He wanted to say something, but decided against it. Not now.

"Goodnight, Crowley."

...

The red lights of the clock blinked irritably, yet Aziraphale couldn't stop staring at them as the time flashed over to 1:00AM. It was the only thing keeping him awake as he fed Debbie and hoped that she would actually sleep more than an hour before begging for more.

"Don't fall asleep or you'll drop her," Adam said sleepily from the mat on the floor.

"I didn't know you were awake," Aziraphale said, realizing Debbie had finished the bottle a while ago.

"Hard to sleep with a crying baby."

"True," he sighed, laying her down in her crib again. "Maybe this time she'll sleep longer."

"She could do that."

"Oi, no powers with her!" Aziraphale warned. "Antichrists' powers may not mix well."

Adam yawned, nodding in agreement. Quietly, Aziraphale began his descent downstairs, eager to fall back into bed, when a sudden stirring from Crowley's room stopped him. What had started as quiet moans quickly escalated into labored breathing. Concerned, he cracked open the door and saw Crowley tossing and turning wildly in the bed.

"Angel!" he yelled, convulsing so suddenly he fell off the bed, crying out in pain.

Aziraphale ran to his side. "I'm here, I'm here," he said, trying to disentangle him from the sheets.

Panting, Crowley sat up straight, looking around in terror. He was sweating heavily, even through the black silk pajamas. "Where are they?"

"Where are who?"

"Adam and Debbie?"

"Right across the hall, dear. They're fine."

"When did you check?"

"I finished feeding Debbie two minutes ago. Relax, you must have been having a nightmare."

"Demons don't get nightmares."

"Well, you're not a demon anymore. And I'm not an angel. We're human."

Sighing, Crowley crawled back on the bed, holding his head in his hands.

"I've got a splitting headache," he confessed. "Do we have anything for that?"

"I'll see what I can find," Aziraphale sighed wearily.

"And more of…whatever it was you put on my back earlier."

He nodded, then realizing Crowley couldn't see, added, "Alright."

By the time he came back, Crowley had managed to take his shirt off again, and Aziraphale could tell that he already looked better. Or maybe it was just him. He felt Crowley gradually start to relax as he gently rubbed the ointment on his back and chest, tracing the cuts with his fingers delicately. Realizing how close they were, it was hard for Aziraphale to keep his thoughts from wandering. There were so many things he wanted to say, had wanted to say for years, but there was always the threat of Heaven and Hell looming over. And now that they were gone… Crowley's hand found his wrist, and Aziraphale looked up expectantly. But the demon's once bright yellow eyes were dim and cloudy, staring just past him and frowning slightly.

"Did you fall asleep?"

"What?" Aziraphale suddenly realized he hadn't moved his hand in awhile. "No, I uh…" He couldn't find a better explanation. "Yes, I suppose I must have. Sorry. Long day."

"No kidding." His hand held on for a second longer before he let go.

"Need anything else?" Aziraphale asked, quickly picking up the various medicines from the floor.

Crowley shook his head, almost sadly.

"Right then. Goodnight."

"Don't…" Crowley said.

Aziraphale paused, almost out the door. He looked over his shoulder and realized how tense Crowley was, grabbing the edges of the mattress so hard he looked like he was about to rip it to shreds.

"Don't leave yet," he finished. "I can't…I can't go back to sleep alone."

Aziraphale sighed. "Give me a minute," he said quietly.

Tiptoeing back into the nursery, he carefully extracted the rocking chair and moved it across the hall to Crowley's bed.

"Just needed a place to sit," he explained. "I'll stay."

Crowley nodded and crawled under the covers without another word. Aziraphale watched as he stared at the ceiling for a long time. Every now and then he would look over in Aziraphale's general direction, and Aziraphale assured him that he hadn't left yet. Eventually, his breathing settled and his eyes slipped shut. But even after Aziraphale was certain he was asleep, he couldn't bring himself to leave Crowley in this state. He kept telling himself that he would stay just a few more minutes, and then just a few more after that, until he fell asleep and suddenly found it was morning.


	5. Chapter 5

Adam skimmed lazily through the prophecies, looking for anything interesting. It had been about a week since he'd arrived, and with little else to do he had devoted himself to looking through Agnes' book.

"Oh, stop right there," Aziraphale said, hands covered in flour as he tried to make some homemade bread. "What's that one say?"

"Prophecy #83," Adam read. "Follow the archetypes and united ye stand. Thine long war could endeth quickly if only thy could remember."

"Remember what?" Aziraphale moaned.

"Remember the archetypes?" Crowley suggested lazily as he lounged on the sofa, staring blankly at the ceiling. Although most of the cuts and bruises he had sustained in the attack had started healing, his broken ribs from the CPR had mostly confined him to the couch.

"What is an archetype?" Adam asked.

"It's like the old-fashioned word for blueprint," Aziraphale explained.

"Maybe we're supposed to build something?"

"Maybe we should build Noah's ark," Crowley suggested. "Put everyone inside it for safety."

"I doubt that's what it means," Aziraphale sighed.

"Well, what does it mean?"

"I don't know!"

"Maybe it's something we forgot to do during Armageddidn't," Adam said. "And maybe that would end the war."

"Well we know what Newt and Anathema forgot…" Crowley muttered.

"Crowley!" Aziraphale hissed disapprovingly.

"Just saying."

"What if it has to do something with War herself?" Adam asked. "Death said that they would always be near by…so I guess that means they could come back. Maybe she needs to remember something? Or we need to remember something about her?"

"Could be," Aziraphale mused. "Look at see if there are any other mentions of war in there."

"You know, like talking about the apocalypse isn't peaceful," Crowley added.

"Really? Must you?" Aziraphale sighed.

"Gotta pass the time somehow. Would you get me some water, angel? I feel like I'm burning up."

"Yes, because you wear black leather all the time," Aziraphale said, dusting the flour from his hands.

"It's my aesthetic."

"It's California! It's hot! You could always wear what we got you at the store the other day…" he mentioned, handing Crowley the glass of water.

"No," Crowley insisted firmly. "I don't trust anything I can't see with my own eyes."

"Alright," Aziraphale shrugged. "It's sitting on your dresser if you change your mind. And it is technically black."

"No."

"Oh, here's an interesting one," Adam interjected. "Prophecy #69: Love bringeth war, and yet shall inspire peace simultaneously."

Crowley raised an eyebrow and started to speak, but Aziraphale quickly laid a firm hand on his shoulder.

"I know what you're thinking," he whispered. "Don't. Say it." Crowley shrugged and swallowed a smirk. "That definitely is an interesting one," he continued. "Make a copy and start grouping them together."

"What if they're referring to multiple wars?"

"I really only see one in the future," Aziraphale sighed.

"We thought that about Armageddidn't," Crowley pointed out.

"And it's going to be that way about the No-pocalypse," Adam added.

"Is that what you decided on?" Crowley asked. "I liked Apoca-nope better."

Aziraphale sighed. "Well, whatever it is, the prophecies must be referring to it."

Adam shrugged and began making a list of prophecies that referred directly to war. "You know, Wensleydale mentioned yesterday that he'd like to see more of the prophecies," he mentioned.

"So send him some copies," Crowley said.

"Yes, but copying them out by hand takes so long. Are you sure I couldn't just text him some pictures?"

"Absolutely not," Crowley said firmly.

"But my shield…"

"I want nothing traceable in here, understand? The trunk is bad enough."

"But writing letters is so boring and old-fashioned."

"Old-fashioned?" Aziraphale scoffed. "That used to be the only means of communication, you know."

"Besides talking?" Adam asked smugly.

"Good lord," he sighed. "I thought it was bad enough just putting up with Crowley's sarcasm."

"High five," Crowley said enthusiastically, holding his hand up in the opposite direction. Adam ran around and obliged him anyway.

"Isn't about time for you to write your friends a letter?" Aziraphale asked wearily.

Adam checked his military watch, which helped him convert the time difference easier. He had started letters back home every day, letting Them know they were still alive and not captured by heaven and/or hell yet, as well as other matters they were keeping an eye on.

_Day 16 (For clarity's sake, they decided to date the letters from when Debbie was born)_

_All is well. No sign of heaven or hell yet. They're probably still confused and searching. Crowley says they will be back eventually though. They won't be satisfied until they have Debbie. We found some interesting prophecies about war. See what you think. "Follow the archetypes and united ye stand. Thine long war could endeth quickly if only thy could remember." And, "Love bringeth war, and yet shall inspire peace simultaneously." Any ideas?_

_—Adam_

He slipped the letter inside the trunk and waited. Sometimes, if Them were caught by Miss Flora, they would be running late and it could take awhile.

"What exactly did you tell your parents, by the way?" Crowley asked. "What do they think you're doing?"

"I told them that you two ran a camp over spring holiday."

"It's not anywhere near spring holiday, is it?" Crowley asked with a grin.

"No, but they think it is. They also won't realize that I've been gone for weeks on end. It'll just seem normal."

"You really shouldn't skip school you know," Aziraphale chided.

"I figured this was more important."

"Well I'm not exactly going to send you back," he conceded, relaxing into an armchair. "We do appreciate you being here. What sort of camp do we supposedly run, anyway?"

"I wasn't too specific," Adam shrugged. "I mentioned that Dog was allowed to come but that was it. I suppose I'll have to come up with something to tell them when I get back."

"I could teach you some magic tricks!" Aziraphale said excitedly.

Adam grinned while Crowley groaned dramatically.

"Well it's not like you can—" Aziraphale paused abruptly. He almost said It's not like you can see it anymore, but the pained look on Crowley's face stopped him short. "It's not like we can do real magic anymore," he finished quietly.

"I think it sounds like fun," Adam said brightly.

"Wonderful! We'll pick up some supplies on our next outing."

Crowley sighed. "Check the drawer under your window."

Aziraphale turned to look at him in shock. "You…you brought them here?" he asked softly.

"I didn't know how long we'd be stuck," Crowley shrugged.

"You already brought all those books…"

"Yes, and there was a box of magic tricks sitting within easy reach, so I grabbed it on impulse," Crowley said hurriedly, brushing it away.

Aziraphale swallowed. He knew the box had definitely not been sitting out in plain sight, and that Crowley must have taken the time to look for it. "Thank you."

"Don't make me regret grabbing it," Crowley said roughly.

"I won't."

Adam turned to the trunk and found a letter waiting in reply.

_Good to hear. I was the only one who was able to come today. I'll let Pepper and Wensley know about those prophecies. They're smarter than I am. Pepper finds it very annoying to walk so far to send the letters. Are we allowed to move the trunk into one of our houses?_

_—Brian_

_P.S. Any more progress with you-know-whos?_

_Best to keep it there for now, you have a good cover story. If you know for sure Flora is gone and you can move it without being seen I think it'll be alright. Tell Pepper the walk is more like a quest than anything. We're all on a quest now, but a real one instead of a game. Not much else is happening, but A. did just find out that C. brought over some of his old magic tricks. I get the feeling that C. hates magic tricks, so that really could be something._

_Wait till I tell Pepper! She's going to have a fit when I tell her I'm winning._

_Oi! You're not winning yet._

Pepper, after breaking the news to the Them that Aziraphale and Crowley weren't together, had decided that they should be on how long it would take before it actually did happen. Brian, ever the optimist, had said three weeks. Pepper believed it would take them a solid two months, and Adam put his money on three months. Wensleydale did not believe in betting, and had passed, although he secretly agreed with Pepper's guess.

Adam looked up, watching Aziraphale almost tenderly look over the magic box and try to sneak a glance at Crowley. He was starting to wish he had bet on something sooner.

...

"Wake up, loser."

Crowley opened his eyes to see Beelzebub staring at him, still bound and chained to the chair in hell. Instinctively he fought against the chains, even though they burned his skin. Beelzebub's sword quickly pressed up against his throat and he hissed at her angrily.

"Where's Aziraphale? What have you done with him?"

"Oh, the poor Fallen angel," Beelzebub mocked. "He won't be able to rescue you this time. Human lives are so pitiful…so easy to end."

"No!"

She grinned wickedly, swinging the sword back into its scabbard. "What's wrong, did we hurt your feelings? Don't worry, he's still here. Well, what's left of his soul, I suppose. It's not the same really, but we do the best we can to torture him."

Crowley strained against the chains, screaming against the pain. He had to find Zira and get out. There had to be another way out of this. This couldn't be the end, not after everything they had been through.

"Oh yeah, got your antichrists too," Beelzebub added. "They were such lovely children. We'll fix that soon enough."

A whip cracked across his back, and Hastur walked around the corner, sneering.

"My turn now," he said. "We've got a rotation, you know. Every demon in hell is fighting for just a few minutes to torture you and that angel friend of yours. It'll be a good ten years before I can get in here again."

The whip slashed through the air again, and Crowley held up his shackled wrists to block it. Surprisingly, it sliced right through the chains, freeing him. Not wasting a second, he grabbed the whip with his bare hands and snatched it away from Hastur, giving him a good thwap before running off.

The halls of hell were empty, but he could hear cheers coming from the colosseum. Cheers…and screams of the damned. There was something terribly familiar about those screams. Crowley raced toward the colosseum, not caring if he had to face a thousand demons at once. His legs felt annoyingly slow, unable to move faster than a steady jog. What had they done to him? What had they done to Zira?

The cheers were getting louder now, and he struggled to make it those last few feet. A hand suddenly grabbed his arm, stopping him, he turned and angrily hissed, jerking away from a demon.

"Crowley!" the demon yelled, reaching forward and grabbing both his wrists painfully. "Wake up!"

The demon morphed into Aziraphale, and then everything went dark as he woke up, which was very disconcerting.

"Don't move!" Zira said sternly, though Crowley could tell his voice was shaking.

Crowley blinked, trying to clear his eyes and see again, but it was no use. The sound of crashing waves suddenly registered as his brain started to truly wake up, and he swallowed hard.

"Where are we?" he asked, voice low.

"I'd rather not tell you," Zira said. "Just…walk towards me slowly, ok?"

Gently, Zira started walking backwards, pulling Crowley along with him. A pebble, disturbed by their presence, was flung behind Crowley, and he could hear it roll down what sounded like a very sharp hillside. Or maybe a cliff.

"Where did I go?" Crowley asked, voice breaking.

"You were sleepwalking," Zira said. "We're not too far from the house, don't worry."

Crowley looked over his shoulder, though it didn't help much except amplify the waves, which were growing quieter at each step.

"I'm guessing that wasn't a nice beach," he said, trying to make a joke but failing miserably. Zira didn't answer. "How close…"

"You don't want to know," Zira said, exhaling shakily.

Crowley's knees gave way, and he collapsed on the ground as the aftershocks of the nightmare hit him. Gritting his teeth, he instinctively covered his ears. He could still hear the haunting cheers from the colosseum and feel the sharp blade of the sword against his throat. Zira knelt beside him, one hand resting gently on his shoulder.

"What did they do to you?" he cried.

"I'm human," Crowley spat. "They have my brain on file now. They have access to every fear, every doubt, and every lost dream. They have everything they need to attack me without setting foot near the house."

"Did they make you sleepwalk?"

Crowley shook his head, running his fingers through his hair wildly. "I don't know. Maybe. I think…I think they're trying to kill me. If they kill me, then I…I'm…"

He choked back a sob, unable to finish the sentence. They were playing him like a fiddle, toying with every emotion that was now amplified by his humanity. Zira hugged him impulsively, and once again Crowley didn't fight it. He needed it. Badly.

"H-how am I supposed to stop the apocalypse like this?" he cried, hating the way his voice shook. "How can…how can I keep Debbie and Adam safe? I can't…I'm useless like this, angel. This was my second chance and I blew it…I blew it already."

"No you didn't," Zira said, pressing his forehead against Crowley's in reassurance. "Debbie is safe. We stopped the first apocalypse and the second one hasn't happened yet. You haven't messed anything up."

"I was supposed to catch you."

The words slipped out unbidden; he hadn't meant to say them. It was too raw, too emotional. He held his breath, wondering how the angel would react.

"So?" Zira said. "I was going to Fall anyway. You couldn't have stopped that if you tried."

"I did try."

Again, he hadn't meant to say it. Crowley realized it was suddenly much harder to control your emotions as a human.

"I know," Zira sighed. "But this had to happen for a reason."

"Like what?" he scoffed. He tried to sound angry, but that was difficult when the angel was so close. Part of him wished he could see, the other part told him he probably wouldn't be able to handle it.

Zira thought for a minute. "We've both been rejected by heaven and hell," he said cheerfully. "Meaning, for once, that we're on the same side."

"I've been saying that for years."

"Yes, but now it's reality."

Crowley nodded wearily. "I suppose that's true." He wondered what the implications of that would be, and wished he knew what Zira was really thinking.

"Can you walk now?" Zira asked. "We're a safe distance away from that cliff but I'd still feel better if we were inside."

Crowley agreed, and they wordlessly made their way back to the house. It wasn't until they were inside that Crowley had a thought.

"Get some new locks for the doors," he said. "Don't show me how to use them."

"I won't let you get out again," Zira promised.

...

After that, Aziraphale decided to sleep in Crowley's room every night, though he never told Crowley of course. He went above and beyond to make sure Crowley thought that he left every night and came back in to help him in the morning. Adam caught on a few days later, but Aziraphale begged him not to tell, and he promised, grinning slightly.

Their days passed slowly. Aziraphale taught Adam how to cook, and they both taught Dog some new tricks with the inedible results. They started a garden outside, though Crowley protested they wouldn't be there to enjoy it for long. Aziraphale always made sure to bring Crowley with them so he could be out in the sun, but after awhile he inveitably returned indoors, complaining about the heat. Every time Crowley shot back a comment about asthetics, and every time he sulked indoors, wrestling with his pride and feeling lonely.

Debbie was not one to complain about the outdoors. She loved laying on the blanket and looking at all the pretty flowers and shiny tools. Unfortunately, she had figured out how to use her powers to bring things close enough to touch, so it was Adam's job to make sure the garden shears didn't suddenly go flying into her skull.

"Oh, by the way, I ran into a neighbor down the street while I was walking Dog."

"Not a demon, was he?" Aziraphale asked anxiously. "Or Angel?"

"No, he was human. He asked if I was lost but I told him I was staying here with my family. So, in case anyone asks, Debbie and I are your adopted children."

"You couldn't say you were staying with friends?" Aziraphale asked. "I mean…that's better than lying anyway."

"I was afraid he'd think you'd kidnapped me."

"Well…I suppose it is a likely story," the angel said, looking slightly embarrassed.

"I think so," Adam said smugly.

"And why is that?" he asked testily.

"Everyone assumes you're a couple anyway."

Aziraphale felt his face redden, though he told himself that it was the effort from trying to pull a particularly stubborn weed. "Honestly, I don't know how anyone gets that impression."

"I don't know..." Maybe the way you're always staring at each other. "You fight like an old married couple."

"Wha- no it's not. We fight like an Angel and a Demon who've been on the same planet for 6,000 years," Aziraphale retorted.

"Same difference," Adam shrugged.

"Is not."

"Totally is."

"Oi, watch it!" Crowley said suddenly, grabbing the garden shears from mid-air.

Aziraphale jumped, startled by his sudden appearance. He'd been so engrossed in not looking at Adam that he hadn't noticed him coming. He wondered how much of the conversation Crowley had heard. Crowley squinted at the shears.

"You were supposed to be watching out for these," he reprimanded Adam slightly. "She doesn't know what she's doing yet."

"Sorry," Adam mumbled apologetically.

"Oh! You're wearing the clothes I bought you!" Aziraphale exclaimed excitedly.

Adam burst out laughing, and Crowley looked confused.

"What's so funny?" he asked. He looked down at what he thought was a simple black tank top, even though he knew it was pointless. "Oh no…no, you didn't get one with…with words did you?"

"I thought it was more than appropriate," Aziraphale said cooly, grinning as he looked him up and down. It was a good look for him.

"What does it say?"

Aziraphale started to speak but suddenly got very red as he tried not to laugh.

"Aziraphale," Crowley said in a low tone. "What does it say?"

"You tell him," he said to Adam, finally giving in.

"It says…" Adam giggled. "Too hot for heaven, too cool for hell."

"Oh my G—" Crowley practically face-planted into the dirt in embarrassment. "Someone turn me back into a snake! Please!"

"Oh, come on," Aziraphale said. "It doesn't look that bad. Besides, it's just us."

"I'm taking this off right now," Crowley said, starting to rise.

"No!" Adam begged, catching his arm. "We bought it 'specially for you."

Crowley sighed and hesitated for a long moment. Finally he sat back down again. "Never, ever let me leave the house like this. Don't let me forget I'm wearing."

"Oh, we won't," Aziraphale promised.

Aziraphale and Adam kept chatting as they planted, Adam telling stories from his childhood before Armageddidn't. After awhile, Aziraphale realized Crowley had fallen silent and was staring at the sky.

"Crowley?"

"I'm fine," Crowley said in a daze. He pointed suddenly, following what would have been his line of vision. "Is that where the sun is right now?"

"Yes," Aziraphale said, shielding his eyes. He was glad the conversation had been averted. "That's exactly where it is."

"Huh. I can see it," Crowley said, sounding a little surprised.

"Really?"

Crowley looked over at them, blinking rapidly. "Sort of, yeah. But I can't see you."

"Just the sun?" Adam asked.

"Just the sun," Crowley confirmed. "Not super helpful."

"But it's something," Aziraphale said excitedly. "You should mark that in your letter, Adam. Maybe Wensleydale will know something about it."

"Actually, it's about time to send it over," Adam said.

"Go on then," Aziraphale said. "I'll just finish planting these petunias."

Adam ran inside and grabbed his journal from the shelf, tearing out a piece of paper.

_Day 23._

_Still alive, obviously. Crowley can see the sun now, but nothing else. Wensleydale, can you find out why? Aziraphale has been sleeping in Crowley's room every night since the sleepwalking, but doesn't want Crowley to know. I still don't think they've told each other. I only know 'cause I accidentally caught him sneaking out one morning. Sorry, Brian, that means you lose. Oh, I suppose I should say something about Debbie. She's doing alright. She doesn't do much, except every now and then she disappears and then comes back a few minutes later. Usually only happens when she's upset. Crowley always calls to her and she ends up in his lap somehow. That's kind of cool. I wonder why I never did that as a baby. Any word on Anathema?_

Adam couldn't think of anything else, so he folded up the paper and tossed it in the trunk. He had finished just in time, as Aziraphale helped Crowley back inside.

"Any replies?" Aziraphale asked, checking on Debbie in her bassinet.

"Not yet," Adam said. "I just sent it in. And they could be running late, too."

"Would you relax," Crowley said, flopping dramatically onto the couch. He winced, instantly regretting the hasty move. "I'm sure they're fine."

"Yes, but if they know that Adam crawled through, then if they were possessed then…"

"Will you stop speculating, Zira? You'll worry yourself to death."

Aziraphale paused and looked over at him strangely. "Zira?"

It was the fourth time he had heard Crowley use the name. The first had been at the bookshop, just before they had rushed to tell Anathema about the second antichrist. Truthfully, he had noticed Crowley a few minutes before and turned the sound back on. He liked to hear what sort of ridiculous things Crowley made up to tell him. The name had caught him a bit off guard, but he had managed to keep up the charade until he realized what the prophecies had meant. The second was during their escape from hell and then a third time had been during a nightmare. Actually, when he really got to thinking about it, he might have heard it a few other times scattered throughout the millenia. He had used it often enough that Aziraphale knew it wasn't a coincidence. Crowley looked like a startled deer in the headlights.

"Aziraphale," Crowley said firmly. "My tongue got…twisted. Sorry."

"No, no that's fine," he said, smiling widely. "Zira. I quite like that, actually."

"Really?" Crowley asked.

"Yes. You can keep calling me that if you'd like. Want some tea?"

"Uh…yeah, sure."

Aziraphale shuffled into the kitchen, beaming radiantly. Trying to hide a soft smile of his own, Crowley looked the other way, forgetting that Adam was in the room. He did not try to hide his smile, and started writing a second letter for the trunk.

_BREAKING NEWS GUYS. Crowley accidentally called Aziraphale "Zira," and he (A) said it was fine for C to call him that again. They're both trying to act cool but they can't stop smiling._

"Any word yet?" Aziraphale called from the kitchen.

Adam peered inside and found two letters waiting, swapping it with his own. The first one, written in Pepper's quick scrawl, read:

_I can't BELIEVE they're sharing a room and nobody's said anything yet. Bet I'm going to win. Are we allowed to bet on who wins a bet? Brain says no. He's just sore from losing already. Let us know as soon as anything else happens._

_—Pepper._

_P.S. Oh, yeah. Anathema is still in a coma and Newt is very worried. Shadwell tried to exorcise her but got kicked out of the hospital instead. They nearly sent him to get psychologically tested but Madame Tracy convinced them he was fine and got to take him home._

_Dear Adam_, the second letter said.__

_What do Crowley's eyes look like right now? Are they different? Let me know._

_—Wensleydale._

"Anathema's still in a coma," Adam announced, coming over to kneel by Crowley. "Shadwell tried to exorcise her but he got thrown out so that didn't work."

"Wouldn't have worked anyway," Aziraphale said, bringing in the tea. "Not while she's unconscious. What did Wensleydale say about Crowley's eyes?"

"He wants to know if they look different," Adam said. "What do you think?"

"Hmm. They're definitely more cloudy than usual," Aziraphale said. "And the yellow color is fading."

Adam scribbled out a third note.

_Wensleydale: they look cloudy and the yellow color is fading._

By this time, there was another message from Pepper waiting.

_Hallelujah, we have reached the nickname phase! We are finally moving somewhere ladies and gentlemen!_

"Is that an answer already?"

"No, just an inside joke," Adam said with a grin. "You wouldn't get it."

"Oh, right." He paused, thinking for a moment. "Do we have any inside jokes, Crowley?"

"Loads, probably," Crowley shrugged. "Nobody would probably think the Roman bathhouse story is funny anymore."

Aziraphale laughed. "Oh, I haven't thought about that one in decades."

"Here's Wensleydale's reply," Adam said, fishing out another note. "My hypothesis is that the eyes are taking a little longer to turn human than the rest of Crowley. Why they take longer probably has something to do with the nature of hell and whatever they did to him, which is not my area of expertise. Regardless, there is a chance it could be temporary blindness. He'll start seeing light and dark first, and then blurry shapes before it all comes back completely."

"Oh, that would be wonderful!" Aziraphale said, clapping his hands excitedly.

"Human eyes?" Crowley mused. "That'll be interesting."

"Well, I suppose it will be like the ones you had before the Fall," Aziraphale said.

"Yes, but…I don't remember that far back. I don't remember what it was like to have normal eyes."

"You'll be able to see colors normally again."

"You mean I don't see them normally now?"

"Ah…no," Aziraphale stammered. "Not really. Snakes eyes only see colors on the deuteranopia scale. So brown, tan, beige, whites…"

_Like the clothes you wear_, Adam thought.__

"And certain blues, too."

"How do you even know that?" Crowley asked.

"It…it's fairly common knowledge, isn't it Adam?"

Aziraphale gestured to Adam to back him up.

"Oh yeah," Adam said, trying not to sound too obvious. "Just like dogs are colorblind. Everyone knows that."

"Hmm. Well that might explain a few things."

"You're 6,000 years old, and you never realized you were basically colorblind?" Adam asked.

"I…I had other things on my mind," Crowley said lamely.

"Right," Adam said, looking at Aziraphale, who purposefully looked away.


	6. Chapter 6

Crowley was not the only one with nightmares. The difference, Aziraphale knew, was that his nightmares didn't come from Hell. If they did, then he'd been attacked a looong time ago. There was a reason why he hardly ever slept. The angel's nightmares were almost always a replayed memory, usually involving Crowley, followed by an unwelcome visit from Above. Tonight, it was Alexandria.

Aziraphale had always loved Egypt, despite the temples and false gods. This time, that dreadful night in 48BC, he had popped in to bless a barren couple with their miracle baby, sending dreams to convince them that this was not the work of Min. He was just leaving, warmed by the sounds of their rejoicing, when he smelled the smoke and heard the screams. Instinctively he raced toward the commotion, expecting something like a small house fire. But as the orange glow in the sky grew rapidly, so did the sinking feeling in his gut.

By the time he rounded the corner, the raging inferno had claimed a dozen ships and spread to several buildings along the wharf...including the Library.

Aziraphale cried out and immediately ran towards it. He was nearly inside when a firm hand grabbed his wrist from behind.

"Aziraphale, you idiot!"

He turned and saw Crowley, who was almost blinding to look at as her—for once white—dress reflected the flames.

"But the scrolls!" Aziraphale cried, struggling to dash in and save them.

Crowley wrapped two strong arms around his chest dragged him away as a beam collapsed.

"Not worth getting discorporated over!" she hissed.

Continuing to struggle in her arms, Aziraphale watched in horror as a whole wing collapsed under the heat. He was pretty sure it'd been the poetry wing.

"Stop spreading," Crowley muttered under breath.

Rain appeared out of nowhere, just enough to stop the fire from spreading but not enough to look like an intervention. But most of the damage was already done.

"No..." Aziraphale moaned, unable to stop the tears now that the initial shock and adrenaline had worn off.

Crowley sighed. "Come on, let's go back to—"

Aziraphale had turned, weeping into her shoulder and leaving Crowley awkwardly hugging him. Angels weren't really big fans of hugging; they saw it as an inconvenient distraction from the business of saving the world. Demons outright condemned it, as they did with just about anything involving love and affection in any form. That left it up to the humans, but as neither Crowley or Aziraphale interacted with a singluar person on a consistent basis, neither of them had really ever been hugged before. Crowley gradually relaxed into the embrace, although she kept her arms light, ready to break free at any second.

"We're getting wet, angel," she said softly after a moment, both reluctant and restless to break the moment. "We should go."

She whistled and two black horses pulling a wagon trotted up beside them. Aziraphale hesitated, looking back at the library sorrowfully. Crowley reached down a hand, inviting him up.

"There's nothing more we can do. Not without creating suspicion anyway."

Aziraphale took her hand and sat next to her. The horses instinctively knew which direction to take them, and a few moments later they had arrived at a nice Egyptian villa. As soon as they were inside, Crowely snapped her fingers, drying both of them instantly as she walked over to the wine cellar. Aziraphale looked around curiously, though he reminded himself to keep alert. He had never been to Crowley's home before. They had always met outside in the open, in restaurants and parks. His instincts told him this could easily be a demonic trap, but he had known Crowley for over 4,000 years now, so he trusted her. Besides, the home was quite spacious, with lots of entrances and exits. Not exactly ideal trap material.

"Drink?"

"Hm? Oh, yes. Thank you."

"Don't thank me," she hissed. "It could be poisoned."

"Yes, quite," he agreed, a little distracted when their fingers brushed together as she handed him a cup.

Crowley took a drink first, showing him that it was not. She was wearing a lovely linen white dress, draped over one shoulder and completed with a white headdress. There were also quite a few gold bracelets, along with a lapis lazuli necklace. Aziraphale looked out the window at the glowing fire, careful not to stare too long. It didn't matter what shape or form, no matter what culture or century they were in, Crowley always managed to take his breath away.

"You don't normally wear white," he said, trying to sound casual as he sipped his mead.

"Egyptians don't normally wear black. At least the rich ones don't. It's too hot."

"True."

He gasped softly as another part of the library crumbled. Crowley joined him at the window.

"I didn't mean for the library to catch fire," she muttered.

"You mean...?"

"It supposed to just be the ships," she hissed. "But those idiots took it too far."

"Why would you light the ships on fire?" Aziraphale asked.

"Trying to get them to leave, go cause chaos somewhere else."

"End the seige, you mean."

"Don't put it like that. I'm spreading chaos and destruction. If it happens to move elsewhere and give Alexandria a break then that's not my fault."

"Not at all."

"And in case anyone asks, that rain has made someone else's night miserable."

"And just happened to help the fire," Aziraphale finished.

"Exactly. And it's getting the scrolls wet," she added miserably.

"Wet scrolls are better than burned scrolls," Aziraphale sighed. "Oh, all those lovely books lost. There must have been thousands of them..."

"They'll rebuild the library soon enough," Crowley said helpfully. "Humans are resilient."

"They can't get those scrolls back though. Some of those were the only copies in existence." He took another drink of the mead, feeling more depressed by the second.

"I stole some scrolls from the libary once," Crowley said lightly. "Still got 'em."

"You read?"

"That's not at all offensive."

"Sorry, I've just never seen you do it before."

"Well it's not like we hang out 24/7. It's been, what, at least 20 years since we saw each other?"

23 and a half, he thought. "I suppose that's true."

"Anyway, I stole them. Very evil."

"I'll thwart you while your back is turned, fiend. They should be returned."

"Got me there," she grinned slightly.

"Thank you."

"Will you stop thanking me already? Someone will hear..." She tensed suddenly, and the air around them turned very cold. "Shit..."

Crowley grabbed Aziraphale and hurriedly pushed him into an alcove, pulling the curtain roughly.

"Quiet," she hissed, eyes wide with fear.

Aziraphale pushed himself into the corner among the clay jars, trying to remain as still and small as possible.

"Hastur, Ligur!" Crowley said cheerfully. "What are you doing out at a time like this?"

"New mission orders," Ligur began.

"Wait..." Hastur interrupted. "Somethings wrong."

"Wrong?" Crowley asked innocently.

"Something feels...holy."

Aziraphale held his breath, praying that this wasn't a trap after all.

"Oh, yes," Crowley said smoothly. "I tempted a rabbi here earlier."

"Ah, that explains why it smells corrupted," Ligur nodded.

Aziraphale frowned. Corrupted? What in heavens name did that mean?

"What was a rabbi doing in Egypt?" Hastur snarled, unconvinced.

"Visiting the library," Crowley lied easily. "Which is currently burning down, thank you very much."

"We'll make sure you get a commendation," Ligur said sarcastically.

"Much appreciated."

"In the meantime, new orders," Hastur prompted.

"Ah, yes. You're to plant the seeds of murder in one Marcus Junius Brutus. Our lord has declared that Julius Caesar should be dead within five years."

"Oh, but he's so tyrannical, why'd we have to kill him?"

"To make room for the next notorious dictator, apparently," Ligur shrugged. "It is not ours to question orders."

"Right. Well thanks chaps, lovely talking to you but I've got another temptation scheduled for this evening, so if you wouldn't mind..."

There was a moment of silence. Then the curtain was ripped away, causing Aziraphale to jump and clutch his chest in fright.

"Relax, they're gone," Crowley said, looking anything but relaxed herself.

"Ah," Aziraphale said, trying to slow his breathing, which had rapidly started again. "That was close."

"Too close," Crowley muttered.

"You didn't have to do that," he said quietly. It was about as close to a thank you as Crowley would allow.

She hissed, flicking her forked tongue at him in a way that made his knees weak. There was also something about seeing Crowley in white...

"It'd be a lot less interesting if you weren't around," she conceded. "No one would thwart my evil plans. I'd have to find another twisted way to return those books." She looked at him sharply. "Are you going to stand in the jars all night?"

"No, sorry. I um...I appear to be stuck."

Crowley sighed dramatically, pretending to be bothered, and extended a hand. Aziraphale took it gratefully, leaning into it for support as he tried to extricate himself from the mess. Unfortunately, it wasn't quite enough, as he tripped, sending a cascade of pottery all over the villa with a spectacular crash. He very nearly would have followed them too, had Crowley not caught him.

"Sorry," Aziraphale groaned, looking at the shattered mess that stretched out to the veranda. "You don't think Hastur and Ligur heard that, do you...?"

He looked back at Crowley, and quite abruptly noticed how close they were, and how strangely she was staring at him. His heart raced not for the first time that evening, but for an entirely different reason.

This was where the memory and the dream diverged. In reality, this was the point where Crowley quickly shook some sense into herself and told Aziraphale that yes, he'd better leave quickly before the Demons came back and not to worry about the mess, I'll take care of that now just go before you get into trouble and don't you dare touch the scrolls. Grabbing the stolen scrolls, Aziraphale had followed her advice with unspoken words in his head, regretful and lonely. Meanwhile, Crowley had drank herself to sleep that night, smashing some extra pots and the wine bottle for good measure, waking up the next morning with a massive hangover and a kitchen full of shattered clay that quite accurately summed up how she was feeling. They would need to be more careful in the future, they both had realized. More careful than the already delicate balance they held, and it killed them.

The dream was different. In the dream, everything began happening the way Aziraphale had desperately wanted it to happen, as words that had remained silent became spoken.

"You know you look stunning in that dress."

Crowley swallowed and didn't move. "Oh?" she asked, voice quavering slightly.

"I mean, you always look great," he continued nervously. "But there's something about that dress that makes you look..."

"What?" she asked, leaning in.

"Ravishing," he whispered as he closed the gap between them.

Crowley returned the kiss eagerly, lips parting softly in invitation. Aziraphale wrapped one arm around her waist as the other hand snaked up into her hair, those beautiful auburn curls that had haunted him since Eden. His knees felt weak and he leaned back against the wall, Crowley pushing him into it with a lustful moan. Her headdress slipped off but neither of them cared, letting the heat overtake them as their hips locked together.

Had this been the end of the dream, or even if it had continued in this direction, Aziraphale would have slept much more often and not been bothered at all. But this is where it diverged from everything he wanted to everything he feared. This is where the dream turned into the nightmare.

"What the FUCK do you think you're doing?" Gabriel's voice echoed through villa like thunder.

He had materialized using his normal form, only this time towered over Aziraphale at about 9 feet tall. Gabriel's presence almost always unnerved him, but this time was downright terrifying. He shot away from Crowley faster than a bullet leaving a gun.

"G-Gabriel," he stammered. "Wha-what are you doing, doing here?"

Gabriel had him pinned against the wall in seconds, which was decidedly much more unpleasant than when Crowley had been on top. This time he was hanging in the air, with Gabriel still looming over him threateningly. He squeaked in terror. Two other angels grabbed Crowley's arms roughly, and she hissed.

"Do you even use the brain God gave you, Aziraphale?" Gabriel snapped. "She's a Demon, one of the Enemy. Just cause she's wearing white doesn't erase the pure evil living inside her, stupid."

Crowley balled her hands into fists of fire and unfurled her dark wings, ready to strike at any moment. One of her guards threw a hearty punch to the stomach while the other gave her a swift kick to the knee, sending her crashing back down to the floor in pain.

"Your days on earth are over, pal," the archangel continued. "You'll see the rest of eternity doing paperwork if I have anything to do with it. And if you're too incompetent to keep up with that, then we'll make up something useless to keep you busy anyway!"

Aziraphale whimpered, throat frozen closed, as usual. He knew it was only a dream, but it hurt nonetheless. He desperately wanted to scream back at Gabriel, to attack him even if he couldn't win. He wanted to wake up and see Crowley, know that he was safe, that they were both safe. He couldn't do either.

Dream Crowley turned into a snake, strangling one angel and biting the other in an attempt to help. It was going very well, and Aziraphale thought they just might have a chance to win this time. But then, as she morphed back into a more humanoid shape, Gabriel threw a dagger straight at her heart. Crowley gasped in shock and crumpled to the ground. Aziraphale screamed.

"Oh, shut up," Gabriel said, shaking him. "She'll only get discorporated. I thought about killing you both, but I decided there was a worse punishment for you."

Aziraphale squeezes his eyes shut in pain. Eternity without Crowley. Knowing and remembering all of who they were, yet never allowed to see them again. Not ever.

"Worth it," Crowley groaned from the floor with her last breath.

No, Aziraphale decided, watching the life ebb out of her as she discorporated, leaving a bleeding body behind. It was torture.

"I'd rather take the hellfire," he choked.

Aziraphale woke in a cold sweat, shivering in the rocking chair. He choked back a sob as soon as he saw Crowley, safe and alive and wonderful, sleeping soundly in the bed next to him. Aziraphale longed to crawl up next to him, holding on and never letting go. But he couldn't do that. They were already in enough trouble as it was, they didn't need to make the hole any deeper. If Gabriel found out, there was no telling what he might do.

Crowley began to stir, tensing and breathing heavily.

"Not the kids," he muttered. "Please not the kids!"

Aziraphale seized the opportunity and shook him awake before the nightmare got worse. Crowley sat up quickly, flailing in the dark. As soon as he found Aziraphale he pulled him into a shaking hug.

"I got you. It's just a dream," Aziraphale said quietly, as much to himself than anything. If Crowley noticed him holding on tighter than usual (he did), he didn't say anything.

"I know, I know," he said through gritted teeth, holding on tight. "I just..." He sighed into Aziraphale's shoulder. "It was the Ark. You, um...you found the kids and..." He shuddered, unable to continue.

"Threw 'em overboard?" Crowley nodded miserably. "I didn't, I promise. I didn't hurt them. They were safe. You saved them."

Crowley backed away suddenly, almost recoiling. "I need a drink."

"No," Aziraphale said firmly, knowing exactly what he meant. The two of them had decided that mixing alcohol with taking care of children probably wasn't the best idea, especially after they had lost the ability to sober up within seconds.

"They're asleep," he hissed, already moving towards the door. "And it's not like I'm going to get drunk, I just want one."

In his current state, Aziraphale realized he couldn't argue, and a drink did sound rather nice. He helped Crowley downstairs and fished the hidden wine bottle from the top shelf, pouring two glasses. Crowley had sprawled on the couch, his usual position of trying to look cool and unbothered. He looked too shaken to pull off the look well, but Aziraphale thought it still looked sexy anyway. When he sat down next to him, it was closer than he'd intended, and their knees accidentally knocked together. Crowley moved his leg away, but only a little bit. They drank in silence for a few minutes, letting the alcohol wash over them and calm their shattered nerves.

"You did the right thing, you know," Aziraphale ventured after awhile.

"What?"

"Taking those kids on the Ark. Saving them from the Flood. It was the right thing."

"Heaven and Hell disagree," Crowley sighed, leaning his head on the back of the couch and staring blankly at the ceiling. "Heaven would say I went against God, Hell would say I was being too soft. For once both sides agree."

"It was very much an "our side" thing to do. Before it was even a thing, really. I didn't stop you, did I?"

"No." He paused. "Still, everything I did seemed to end up wrong eventually. Usually made things worse."

"Oh, not always," Aziraphale said.

"When has it gone right?"

Aziraphale thought for a moment. "Adam. He grew up normal, away from influences. That worked out alright in the end. And the scrolls you stole in Alexandria..." Images of Crowley smashing him against the wall flashed through his mind, and he was grateful Crowley couldn't see how red he suddenly became. "Saved 'em from being burnt," he said hurriedly.

"So twice in 6,000 years."

"You stopped that caravan that was traveling to Shaanxi in 1556, so they were safe from the earthquake."

"That was an accident. I didn't know about an earthquake, I just broke their wagon axels."

"Accidental or not, you still saved them. That counts for something, even in my opinion, thought it isn't worth much."

"You think too little of yourself, angel. Maybe in Heaven it wasn't worth much but here it's just the two of us so it's worth a great deal."

Aziraphale smiled at that. "But if I recall, the same thing happened in Pompeii. And Antioch's earthquake in 526. And Yaeyama in 1771, with the tsunami. And the Bagdad invasion in 1258..."

"Alright, alright," Crowley sighed wearily. "I may have had an inkling that the Demons were going to cause death and destruction."

"So you went out and tried to save as many as you could," Aziraphale said quietly. "Yes, yes, I know you always said you were doing evil deeds and it just so happened that they weren't caught up with the rest of them, but I know what you were really doing. I always have."

Crowley didn't know what to say to that. "Hastur's having a field day with me," he sighed miserably. "They know now. Everything's out on the table, nothing hidden. They're taking all my victories and turning them into disasters. Even the century I was asleep, they show me things I could have done to help."

They drank in silence. "Why did you sleep for a century?" Aziraphale asked after a minute.

"I, er...got tired," Crowley said lamely. "Got tired of the world. Got tired of finding loopholes and trying to fight my own side."

"Must have been terribly difficult for you."

"It was, thanks."

"Sorry."

"It still is," he sighed. "Actually, it's going to be even harder now that we're human."

"How do you mean?"

"We can keep hiding, sure. But for how long? How long will these bodies last? 50 years, maybe? Maybe longer with Adam's help, but still. One day there won't be anything we can do. We'll just die and then we'll be enslaved to Heaven and Hell for all eternity."

"Heaven and Hell?"

"Well, respectively. Knowing Gabriel, he'll probably want to keep torturing you up there." Aziraphale shivered, remembering his nightmare. "We should have..." He stopped.

"Should have what?" Aziraphale asked quietly.

"Should've gone to Alpha Centuari when we had the chance. Hidden out among the stars until they forgot about us."

"They wouldn't have forgotten," Aziraphale said sadly.

"But maybe we wouldn't have Fallen to human."

"Maybe. Or maybe it would have happened anyway."

"Yeah, but...ah, nevermind."

"What?"

"It's nothing," Crowley stressed.

"Not when you put it like that it's not."

Crowley sighed. "Sometimes...sometimes I wonder if I could have used that Holy Water differently."

Aziraphale turned to him sharply. "Don't say that," he pleaded.

"I'd have rather died than an eternity of whatever Hell has planned for me and with you in..." He shook his head and stopped.

_I'd rather take the hellfire_. Aziraphale was silent for awhile, pondering what all had happened, and what might have been.__

"Match made in Heaven," he said without thinking.

Crowley stiffened and it took him a second to realize what he had said. He hadn't meant to say it aloud.

"Er, I mean...our side. You were a terrible demon, I was a bad angel...you know. Like I've said before, I don't think we would have been able to stop Armageddon if we'd been competent at what we do."

"Hmm."

"Could be Ineffable."

He decided to stop talking, and quickly finished his wine. He eyed the bottle, still sitting in the kitchen, and wondered if a second drink would hurt. It probably wouldn't, but the thought of Debbie and Adam sleeping upstairs stopped him. If something happened, they needed to be sober. Aziraphale was about to suggest that they go back to bed when Crowley's head landed on his shoulder. He looked down, startled, and noticed that he was asleep.

_Well, asleep is better than nothing._

He sat frozen for a long time, not wanting to break the moment. Crowley's hand rested in the small gap between them, and Aziraphale eyed it longingly. It wouldn't hurt, he figured, to hold it. If Crowley woke up he could always say he had been trying to wake him. Their fingers were very nearly touching anyway. And it wasn't like they had never held hands before, back when it was common between friends. In 1752, when the first zoo had opened in Vienna, he had excitedly grabbed Crowley's hand to drag him over to a particularly exciting tiger exhibit. Somehow, neither of them had let go. After that, it had occurred fairly frequently until Crowley took his century long nap.

Slowly, he slipped his hand into Crowley's, hoping beyond hope that he wouldn't wake up. To his surprise, Crowley fingers automatically curled around his, and he didn't wake up. Aziraphale sighed in relief. It felt good, and his racing heart started to slow down a little. He knew he should wake Crowley before he also fell asleep, but just a few more minutes couldn't hurt, could it? Besides, he didn't know if he'd ever get a chance like this again. The minutes ticked by slowly, and before he knew it, his head was resting on Crowley's. A few minutes later, he was asleep.

...

Debbie woke up crying, though that's not a Nice and Accurate description for the unworldly shriek that erupted from her throat. It should have been impossible for such a sound to come from such a small body, and yet somehow it did. Every window in the house simultaneously shattered. Adam, who had been trying to quietly pour some cereal and milk for breakfast, quickly covered his ears and dropped the milk jug, which burst on impact. Crowley immediately leapt to his feet in alarm, accidentally pulling Aziraphale half way with him, but since the angel was still half way asleep, he ended up on the floor.

"Shit," Crowley yelped.

He quickly ran up the stairs to the nursery, leaving Aziraphale on the floor of the living room.

"What on earth...oh dear," he muttered, realizing it was morning and seeing Adam was already up.

"Morning," Adam called over the cacophony.

"Not a word out of you, young man," Aziraphale warned.

"I didn't say anything."

"Yes but you were going to."

Adam shrugged, grinning, and returned to mopping the spilt milk. Aziraphale hurriedly dashed upstairs. He paused outside the nursery, listening as Crowley sang under his breath. He realized he hadn't heard him sing before, at least while sober. He had a nice voice. It seemed to work, and Debbie's cries gradually faded. Aziraphale poked his head in.

"Is she alright?" he asked hesitantly.

"Oh, she's fine," Crowley answered, cradling her gently against his shoulder. "Probably just annoyed at being left alone too long."

"Right. Well, glad it wasn't Demons attacking."

"Or Angels," he added.

"Or Angels. Oh, hold still, there's glass everywhere." He ducked into Crowley's room and grabbed some shoes.

"Thanks," Crowley said awkwardly, slipping them on.

"Does she need anything?"

"Just food. Changed her already."

"Really? That was fast."

"After Warlock I could do it blindfolded with one arm tied behind my back anyway."

"Of course." Aziraphale moved towards the window, kicking pieces of glass out of the way with his foot. They should probably talk about last night, but he didn't know how to bring it up.

"Angel?"

"Yes?"

"No more midnight drinks."

"Quite right," Aziraphale sighed and kept staring out the window. "We'll, ah, need to get a repairman out I suppose."

"Yeah," Crowley sighed, turning away.

...

"So you're telling me that every window in your house broke?" the repairman asked incredulously.

"Obviously," Aziraphale said nervously.

"How?"

"Er..."

"Earthquake," Adam jumped in.

"I didn't feel anything."

"We must have been right on the edge of it," Adam said seriously. "It was really scary. Debbie screamed like anything."

"Huh. I guess that's California life for you. Maybe I'm just used to it."

"Do the windows in the big room upstairs first," Crowley said. "The birds keep flying in to my plants."

"Right," he nodded. "Might take awhile, especially in this heat, but I can do it." He turned to Aziraphale. "D'ya mind if I get a drink before I get started, Mr. Crowley?"

Aziraphale blinked in surprise. Crowley was frozen in place, waiting to see what he would do, as was Adam. "Not at all," Aziraphale said, trying to keep his voice steady.

Crowley raised an eyebrow, but he ignored it, fetching a glass of water for the repairman. It was the easier explanation, Aziraphale told himself. There really wasn't a better story and he wouldn't believe the truth. It wasn't just because he wanted to see how it felt.

"So, how did you two meet?" the man asked, sipping at his water slowly. "I love hearing everyone's stories. Keeps the job interesting, ya know?"

"Oh. Well, I, erm..." Aziraphale stammered.

"St. James' Park," Crowley stepped in firmly. "There were some lost kids. I accidentally gave some bad directions, he stepped in and helped them out."

"Aw, how sweet. Love at first sight?"

"Yes," he said, voice softening a bit in a way that caught Aziraphale off-guard. "Yes it was."

"How long has it been?"

Crowley frowned and looked to Aziraphale. "Ah...not sure really," Aziraphale said. "Kinda lost track."

"You often do," the man chuckled softly. "What brought you all the way from England?"

"Just wanted a change in scenery," Aziraphale smiled thinly. He wished the man would stop talking and get to work.

"Don't we all. Well, California's a nice place for it. Ever been surfing?"

"Heavens no. Not really my style."

"I have once," Crowley said.

"Really?" Azirphale asked in surprise.

"Learn something new every day, don't ya?"

"It was before we met," Crowley lied. "I quite enjoyed it. Actually, I was hoping to do some more here before...you know." He gestured at his blank expression.

"Ah, so you weren't born blind, then?"

"No."

"Funny. I guess I never really thought it could happen any other way. What did happen, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Car accident," Crowley said.

"Near drowning," Aziraphale said simultaneously.

The man looked confused.

"Well, both," Aziraphale ammended. "Rather, we're not quite sure exactly what caused it. But there was a car accident...into a lake."

"That sounds awful."

"Yes," Aziraphale sighed. "Yes it was. Had to do CPR. Barely made it out alive." He looked over at Crowley sadly.

"But we're hoping it's temporary," Adam chimed in. "It's starting to come back slowly."

"That's a relief. Well, I'd better get started." He grinned at Adam. "You're very lucky to have two parents who love each other so much."

Adam grinned back. "Yes I am."

The repairman went out to the truck to grab his supplies. Crowley looked over in Aziraphale's general direction.

"Drowning? Really?"

"First thing I thought of," Aziraphale muttered, looking away.

"Nice touch with the garden," Adam said smugly.

"Well," Crowley said, shifting uncomfortably. "It was partly true. We did meet in St. James' park several times over the centuries."

_283 times_, Aziraphale thought. _Not that I counted or anything_. He cleared his throat awkwardly. "I'm going to clean up the library. Shout if you need me."____

He closed the door behind him and sank onto the bed he hadn't used in weeks, holding his head in his hands miserably. It was all too easy to hide his feelings when he only saw Crowley every few decades, or they were too focused with raising Warlock and trying to prevent the apocalypse. But now...being this close and isolated from the rest of the world, with Crowley having to rely on him for almost everything, it was getting to be too much. All of his insides ached as he tried to reason his way through the situation. The way Crowley had so effortlessly contributed to the story had thrown him off-guard. But how much was acting, and how much was true? One could never be sure with a Demon. Aziraphale choked back a sob, feeling like he would explode at any minute.


	7. Chapter 7

_Day 26._

"Crowley! Look what we found!" Adam yelled excitedly, bursting into the house.

Aziraphale followed him clumsily, holding an old Victrola in his arms. "It's a phonograph," he explained as Crowley squinted in confusion.

"Well I hope you brought food as well, since that was the original purpose of your little quest," he said sarcastically.

"Yes, but that's not important..."

"Kinda is..."

"Yes, but come feel this thing."

Aziraphale grabbed Crowley's hand and brought it to rest on the horn. He ran his hands over it appreciatively, feeling the different textures.

"It is well made," he admitted. "And it's in great shape, too."

"And it's not electric, which means no contacts from Hell," Aziraphale grinned widely.

"Did they have a Queen record?"

"No, but we did find the best of Handel!" he said excitedly, placing a record delicately on the turntable.

"And that would be important because...?"

"It has gavottes!"

"Oh no. Angel, please no."

"Oh, come on, it'll be fun! I haven't danced one in ages."

"Well I've never danced it before and I intend to keep it that way."

"You might like it if you try," Aziraphale said. "Oh! Milk! Hang on, I should probably put away the milk first."

He practically skipped off to the kitchen, and Adam sidled up to Crowley.

"Stop pretending to make exuses," he whispered.

"What?" Crowley protested.

"We both know that you'd take any chance to dance with him, no matter the style," Adam said conspiratorily.

Crowley opened and closed his jaw in shock. He could hear Aziraphale coming back. "You're on thin ice, kid," he hissed.

"I suppose we don't have to do it," Aziraphale said, trying to hide his dissapointment.

"No," Crowley sighed. "It's alright. I...don't mind."

"Really?!" Aziraphale said, brightening. "Oh this'll be fun."

He started moving the furniture around, clearing a space.

"Just know I can't actually see anything you do," Crowley said. "You'll have to narrate it as you go."

"Not a problem," Aziraphale promised. He grabbed Crowley and Adam by the arms and positioned them. "Right. So we start off facing each other in two lines but for the sake of today it's just our line. Now you take your left foot and tap it...not quite, more like this," he added, helping Adam. "Good. Then you cross it behind and tap it there twice. Good! Now this step is a bit more difficult, because we're turning to get in a different line."

"How the hell are we going to do this with only three?" Crowley groaned.

"Trust me, we can make it work. Now, how exactly did it work?"

He practiced a few times on his own, with Adam copying. Then he helped Crowley do the same, sometimes having to physically reposition him as his descriptions of the moves were not very good.

"Right! Now we're in our new lines, and link arms." He stood between Crowley and Adam so he could direct them easier. "We move to the left first, using the grapevine move. You remember that one, don't you Crowley?"

"Yeah," Crowley said tensely, trying to focus on actually moving his feet instead of how nice it felt to be this close to Zira.

"It's just a few steps, mind. Now we go to the right...and back again. Ok, on this one we kick our legs up, kind of like we're marching."

"It's not like the Rockettes, is it?"

"I have no idea who they are," he said in confusion. "No, not so high, Crowley...what are you trying to do? We're dancing, not kicking people in the head."

Adam laughed. "Lower than the Rockettes," he giggled.

"Stop laughing," Crowley grumbled. "I'm trying to learn this blind."

"Which might make this next part tricky," Aziraphale said, frowning slightly. "We let go and turn in a circle."

Damn, thought Crowley, reluctantly letting his arms drop as he spun around.

"Not quite, dear," Aziraphale said. "You actually move your feet."

"That sounds dangerous."

"Don't worry, I won't let you hit anything. Now, when you turn you hold your arms out like this anyway, so just let me pull you where you need to go."

Aziraphale slowly pulled him a circle, then showed Adam the same move.

"Oh, this is my favorite part," he said excitedly. "Now we go back to our original line...no, don't just walk Crowley."

"What's wrong with that?"

"It's a dance, you can't just...just...swagger everywhere."

"I don't know, I think that'd look pretty good."

Aziraphale opened and closed his mouth, trying to figure out how to respond. It did look rather fetching. "Not in this dance," he finally managed.

"Fine," Crowley sighed. "How am I supposed to move back to the line then?"

He thought for a second. "Like a peacock."

"Like a what?"

"You know, prim and proper, hands on your hips."

"I don't think we both have the same image in our heads..."

"Alright, then, I'll help you."

Crowley was all too glad to let Aziraphale move him around the room.

"Now we do the same thing back the other direction, but we do the kicking move again."

"Don't you legs get tired after this?" Adam asked.

"Yes, but it's ever so fun. Now go back again...and now we come back and link arms again."

"Oh, good," Crowley said out loud. Whoops. "I can keep up with you easier that way," he covered hastily.

"It is the easiest part," Aziraphale said. "This time we actually move forward, kicking as we go again. And now you can do the high kicks, Crowley."

Crowley imagined Gabriel was standing in front of him, and landed a good kick to the air. This threw him off balance, causing him to start falling sideways into Aziraphale, who steadied him.

"Sorry," Crowley winced.

"Not at all, darling, you're doing wonderfully."

"Ngk."

"Come on, let's go over it again," Aziraphale said, not realizing how he had completely undone Crowley with a single word. "And then we can try it with music."

Crowley linked arms again, hoping Zira couldn't feel his pulse racing. The second round went better, and Aziraphale was delighted when they pulled it off to Handel's music. It was the first time in months he'd been this relaxed and happy, Crowley realized. It was infectious, and soon he and Adam felt better too, and they were all laughing until tears ran down their cheeks and Crowley's ribs ached. They were all horrible dancers, really, and the gavotte may have seemed a little ridiculous, but it was fun, Crowley admitted to himself. And besides, he was dancing with his angel, so there really wasn't anything better than that.

...

_Dear Mother and Father,_

_I am having a lot of fun at camp, but I do miss you. Don't worry, Mr. Crowley and Mr. Fell are taking very good care of me. But I did find out that they aren't together like we thought. Yet. Everyone can tell they like each other though, and some of the other kids and I have a guessing game to see how long it takes them to finally get together. I would have called you to let you know how I'm doing but it's an old-fashioned camp, so there's no technology allowed. All we have for music is a phonograph and old vinyls (I like to find the romantic ones when it's my turn to pick. It makes Mr. Crowley and Mr. Fell look funny). We learned an old dance called the 'gavotte,' which was a lot of fun, plus it got Mr. Fell dancing with Mr. Crowley. I'll have to teach it to you when I get back. It was a lot of fun. Mr. Fell teaches the cooking classes. I can make homemade bread now. It's surprisingly better than I thought. He also teaches me magic tricks, although he's not very good at them. It's ok though, because we have a lot of fun anyway. Both of them work out in the garden, and it's quite funny 'cause they both have different ideas of what we should do. We also have an old riddle book that we read in the evenings. It's from the middle ages, so it's even trickier. People talked a lot differently back then. Oh, and I couldn't forget to mention Debbie. She's one of the staff's baby, and I like helping take care of her. We all do. I think that's all for now. I miss you, and can't wait to come home soon._

_Love,_

_Adam._

...

Crowley's nightmares had gotten worse, often keeping him up for long hours of the night. Although he had started to see more light during the day, and could even track Aziraphale's movements if he wore pure white, he was completely blind in the dark. This made it rather difficult to serparate the nightmares from reality. His nerves were shot, and he was jumpy even during the day. Old memories were drug out from the shadows and forcefully re-created to be absolutely terrifying. Adventures with Zira throughout history always ended with an ugly discorporation. Hell, it seemed, had discovered his secret, and they were taking full advantage of it. The worst were the ones where he had been paralyzed and forced to watch Zira being tortured. Unable to move, unable to even scream against it, they lasted until Crowley finally managed to wake himself up, unable to bear it any longer.

After a particularly brutal torture session, Crowley found himself back in bed, drenched in sweat and throat burning. The utter blackness of the room told him it was still pre-dawn, which meant hours before he'd be able to see even a faint silhouette of Zira or hear his voice. That was the best way to bring himself back to reality after a nightmare. It was the only way he knew for certain that the angel was alive. Heart still racing, Crowley decided the best way to calm down was to get a drink. At the very least, it would stop the burning in his throat.

He had learned to navigate the house fairly well at this point, arm outstretched to lightly touch familiar objects. But he had never done it at night before, always afraid of making an ungodly amount of noise and waking Debbie. Carefully, he slipped out of bed and shuffled toward the door, reaching out to feel the rocking chair.

He found it easily enough, along with a soft, warm shoulder.

Crowley drew back in shock, as if the touch had burned him. The rocker creaked as the person readjusted positions and exhaled softly. Crowley didn't need to see to know it was Zira. He wondered how long he had been sleeping there, and why he hadn't mentioned anything. He stood for a moment, looking down and peering into the darkness. Where his eyes failed him, his imagination kicked in, picturing exactly the way Zira looked. He always had a way of looking extremely comfortable even in the most awkward positions. The moonlight, if there was moonlight, perfectly illuminating every blonde curl, every curve of his soft face…

Crowley shuddered involuntarily and hastily left.

_Nope, nope, nope. Not going there. Can't go there. Not allowed._

He fumbled for a glass and filled it with water, savoring the cold in his throat. The heavy ache in his chest, for once, was not due to the still healing ribs. His mind started to wander again. He had often wondered what Zira felt toward him. There had been times, especially the last two centuries, where it certainly seemed like he loved Crowley. But then there were times when it didn't. Crowley had finally reasoned that Zira did love him, but like he also loved a good book, walks on the beach, or a nice glass of wine. He loved Crowley simply because he was an Angel, and Angels love everything and everyone. Well, except for demons, usually, but somewhere along the way Zira had accepted him. And in that regard, maybe he really did love him...but then again Angels and Demons weren't allowed to be friends, let alone lovers. Therefore, he and Zira wouldn't be allowed to go past friends, which was pushing the boundaries anyway. At least…it hadn't been allowed until a few weeks ago. He wondered again why Zira hadn't said he would stay. Did he think it was weird? Did he think that Crowley thought it was weird? It was a new dynamic, being human. There was so that he wanted to say, but he didn't know how Zira would take it. He couldn't even see how the angel was handling things in day-to-day life, just what he heard in his voice. Crowley was so used to reading him like a book, that it was strange not to have that ability.

"Crowley!" Zira hissed behind him. Choking, Crowley jumped, nearly dropping the glass. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. Are you awake?"

"Yes, yes, I'm fine, angel," Crowley said, heart pounding. He still wasn't used to saying Zira out loud. "Just thirsty."

He cringed inwardly. Probably not the best word choice for the moment.

"Oh good," Aziraphale said, sighing in relief. "I thought…I thought you were sleepwalking again."

"Nah. Nightmares, yes. Sleepwalking, no."

"Right. Need a hand getting back up?"

"I think I got it," Crowley said. "Thanks though."

"Oh. Alright then. Goodnight."

"Goodnight…Zira."

He quickly found his way back to his room, leaving the door ever so slightly open. Heart pounding, he crawled in bed and turned to face away from the door, pretending to be asleep. He waited in the dark, listening intently. Sure enough, after awhile, he heard the door click shut. Soft footsteps tiptoed closer before being replaced with the soft creak of the rocking chair. Crowley buried his face in the pillows and smiled.

...

Dagon approached Beelzebub nervously, although there wasn't a demon in existence that didn't approach her without some state of unease. It was best not to speak to the Lord of Hell when she was working, but as she had been staring for hours at the Nightmare Division, it seemed like an fairly reasonable time to chat.

Humanity had always experienced nightmares, the ordinary kind where an overactive brain was too stimulated to produce a restful sleep. But once Constantine had come around and made Christianity legal, Hell needed to find a new way to continue the persecutions, and had figured out how to control dreams. They figured out how to get inside the mind of some poor soul and learn every last thing about them, concocting a perfect nightmare to be thrown at them at their lowest, most vulnerable moment. Secret sins and desires haunted them. Naughty, unabashed moments previously not even thought about filled them with shame and started new temptations. Seeds of doubts were watered and grown until they turned away from their Maker. Their worst fears drove them to the brink of insanity and sometimes beyond. (Crowley had been horrified, of course, and left the other Demons to use that method.)

The Nightmare Division was one of the most modern department in all nine realms of Hell mostly because it was Beelzebub's favorite. After millennia with almost no technology whatsoever, computers had entered Hell less than a decade ago. Hundreds of screens lined the dungeon walls, flashing ominous reports of data from around the world. Now that the file system had been rendered obsolete (they had just finished the transition last month), digital files were updated instantly whenever anyone had a new doubt, fear, or temptation. You could search for anybody in the world, from presidents and kings to villagers in the remote Amazon jungles. They were all there, each with the ultimate blackmail list. You could watch their self-esteem, belief, and strength diminish as Nightmares played out live on other screens, producing a sick, twisted delight in the Demons who had programmed them. Beelzebub was currently watching two of these screens side by side.

"Erm, pardon me, Lord Beelzebub..." Dagon said hesitantly.

"This better be good," she droned, eyes glued to the screen.

"It's just that the army's getting restless," Dagon said hurriedly. "It's been nearly a month and we're still no closer to finding the new antichrist."

"On the contrary, we're much closer."

"Yes but...some of them, not me, are demanding to know why you seem more focused on the Nightmares. They wonder how it's useful."

"They wonder how picking apart the mind of a former Demon is useful?" Beelzebub laughed dryly. "Idiots. Just look at them. They're miserable."

"Beautiful. But perhaps it's time to focus elsewhere?" Dagon suggested, grimacing in anticipation of a swift rebuttal.

Surprisingly, Beelzebub seemed rather calm. If one didn't know better, you'd almost think she was in high spirits.

"What, with the Angel? We don't need to do anything. Look." She pointed at one of the screens where Aziraphale's dream about what would have happened at the old convent had been interrupted by the sudden appearance of Gabriel. "Thanks to that son of a Bitch, we don't have to do anything."

She leaned over Hastur's shoulder and pressed a few buttons, causing Aziraphale to land a solid punch to Gabriel's jaw. The corner of Beelzebub's mouth twitched slightly.

"What was that for?" Dagon asked.

"Nothing, I just wanted to see Gabriel get punched."

"Don't we all," Dagon agreed as Gabriel launched a counter attack on Aziraphale. "But, do we know where they are yet?"

"Not yet. But we will. Soon now. Very soon."

"How do you know?"

Beelzebub turned and looked at Dagon for the first time, a slow, sadistic grin spreading across her face.

"Because I've been watching this for centuries," she said cooly, "and it's finally heating up."


	8. Chapter 8

Day 28.

Crowley was in space, just floating in the cold, empty silence. It was the horrible kind of silence, the cliché kind in movies where the music stops abruptly and you just know something bad has happened. He always hated that cliché, usually interrupting the movie with some kind of snide remark to break the suffocating silence that threatened to overhwelm him. It was like that now, in the nightmare. He was alone in space, and it felt like he was drowning. This wasn't the universe he'd helped create. That universe felt alive, full of sounds, light, shooting stars, comets, meteors, auroras, and stardust. It was colorful and breathtakingly beautiful. This wasn't like that at all. He knew which memory the Demons had chosen to attack him this time. It was one of the only ones he still had Pre-Fall, when he still had his angel wings. They were some of his most precious memories, and he had fought to keep Hell from reaching them for so long. He couldn't stand the way they taunted him now, showing him an empty space where there had once been laughter and, dare he think it even now, love. But now it was empty, a vaccum that seemed to such out his very soul. He couldn't sense anybody, no matter how hard he tried. No humans, no Demons, no Angels, no God, and definitely no Aziraphale. It was just him, abandoned and alone in the universe. It felt like the life was being dragged out of him, but in the most painful way possible. Crowley struggled to wake up. He didn't want to see anything else. In his mind, almost nothing could be worse than this isolation, but he was sure Hastur would think of something. He always did, each nightmare worse than the one before.

He finally forced himself awake back into the lonely darkness of his room. If he listened closely, he could hear Zira's steady breathing as he slept close by. It was calming, but not enough to stop the tears from streaming down his face. Crowley choked back a sob. These nightmares were almost worse than the ones where he woke up screraming. He hated the way they made him feel.

He felt a soft, warm hand on his shoulder, and though unexpected, didn't make him jump.

"Are you alright?" Zira asked quietly.

"'M fine," he slurred.

There was a moment of silence, and then, definitely unexpectedly, Zira climbed onto the bed and wriggled under the sheets. Cautiously, as if afraid of the reaction, he snuggled up to Crowley and wrapped his arms around him comfortingly.

"You don't sound fine to me," he whispered.

Slowly, Crowley turned over and tucked his head into Zira's shoulder, keeping his arms close to his chest so that as much of his body as possible was sheltered. He whimpered slightly, wishing that Zira still had wings.

"You're safe here," Zira whispered. "We're safe."

Crowley exhaled shakily, grounding himself in Zira's smell, the warmth that just seemed to radiate off him, the softness of his skin, the texture of that awful nightgown, and the weight of his arms around him.

"Is this alright?" the angel asked after a moment. Crowley nodded. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Crowley thought for a second. How could he explain the deafening silence and the vast loneliness of the void he'd just been shown? How that compared to his memories pre-Fall, where he had only glimpses, bits and pieces of his former life? No. There wasn't a way to explain it. He shook his head.

"That's fine."

Hesitantly, Zira took one hand and stroked Crowley's hair gently, another feeling he clung to as he tried to remember that this was what was real. Slowly the warmth returned and his breathing went back to normal. He liked it here. It felt good, it felt safe. He wanted to tell Zira. There were a lot of things he wanted to say, like how he knew Zira slept in the rocking chair, and how that was ok. And how falling asleep on the couch last night was also ok, and he had enjoyed it. And how he'd be perfectly fine if he wanted to bring a bed in here to stay permanently. Or they could share a bed and that would be nice too. But his throat closed up, and he couldn't say any of it. Zira shifted and Crowley grabbed the front of the nightgown earnestly.

"Stay," he pleaded, trying to throw everything he could into the word.

"I'm not leaving, I promise. Not till you're asleep." Crowley shook his head, trying to put it into words. He didn't have to. "Oh. Alright," Zira said simply, relaxing into the bed a bit more.

For as long as Crowley had been dreaming up ways to lure the angel in bed with him, he sure thought it'd be different. Even imagining it he got nervous, which is why he'd never followed through. But now he didn't want any of that. He didn't need it. All he needed was to know that his angel was close and that he cared. And while in one sense—the kind that came from thousands of years of anxious pining—this would never be enough and he did want to go further, in that precise moment, it was enough, and he was content.

Crowley was very nearly asleep again when Zira planted a soft, sleepy kiss on his head. Crowley melted. He was just screwing up the courage to finally say something when he heard a light snore. His heart sank but he couldn't bring himself to wake him up again.

Ah, well. There was always morning.

But when he woke, the bed was empty, a cold spot where Zira had been the night before. Crowley wondered if he'd been dreaming. He lay in bed for a long time, trying to get his eyes to focus in on the blurry green shapes of his plants. There was a knock on the door.

"It's Adam," the boy said softly as the door creaked open slightly. "Aziraphale said not to wake you but its already 11:30. I wanted to make sure you were alright."

"Oh," was all Crowley said. Then, "Where is he?"

"He went on a walk. But he told me to stay here in case you woke up. He didn't want you to panic if you couldn't find us."

"Oh."

"Do you need anything?" he asked hesitantly.

Crowley shook his head, and Adam closed the door.

"Damn it, angel," Crowley muttered into his pillow.

They'd been so close. He needed to see. Badly. There were too many mixed signals, and he couldn't see what Zira was really feeling and thinking. Why wasn't he saying anything?

Crowley wasn't sure how long he lay there, thoughts racing through his head at a million miles an hour. At some point, he heard footsteps coming up the stairs, and hushed voices in the hall.

"Well he was awake when I checked on him, but he still hasn't moved," Adam said.

"Oh dear," Aziraphale sighed. The door opened slightly, and Crowley kept his eyes firmly closed.

"Is he sick?" Adam asked.

"Sort of. I think he's depressed."

"Because of the nightmares?"

"Yes."

"Is there anything we can do?"

"I'm not sure. Last time..." He bit his lip in concern.

"What happened last time?"

"Last time he slept for a hundred years."

"Oh."

"Go downstairs, Adam," he said softly, slipping into the room and closing the door behind him. There was a long moment of silence, and Crowley barely breathed. "I know you can hear me," Zira said finally, standing over the bed. "Look, because I know last night was a hard one I'll leave you alone, if that's what you really want. But you have to eat, Crowley. And I won't allow you to shut down completely. I won't...I won't let you down like last time." He cleared his throat. "There are some scones on the table to your right. They're cold but they're still good. I expect them to be gone at the end of the day, and I'll come fetch you for dinner. And if you can't bring yourself to leave the room at least go sit by the window for awhile. It's not very far away and it's nice and warm. You'll like it."

He stood in silence for a long while, just waiting. Finally, Crowley shrugged ever so slightly to let him know he heard. It was just enough, and he promptly turned to leave. There was a slight hesitation, just before the door clicked. Crowley knew he was looking back at him, and could just imagine the soft pain in his eyes...

_No. Don't think about the eyes._

"What have they done to you?" Zira whispered softly. He hadn't meant for Crowley to hear it, but he did.

_It's not Hell, you idiot_, Crowley thought. _It's you.___

_ __ _

...

"Did you ever see each other in heaven? Before the Fall, I mean."

Startled, Crowley looked up, squinting his eyes as he licked icing off the spatula, keeping it away from Debbie, who he held in the other arm. It was her one month birthday, and they were celebrating, although it was mostly to cheer him up. Adam's question came unexpectedly, and he wasn't quite sure how to answer. He barely even thought about life pre-Fall now, let alone talk about it. Actually, he didn't think he had ever discussed it with Zira either.

"Why do you want to know?" Zira asked from the kitchen. Cakes, apparently, were messy when you didn't have any miracle power.

"Just out of curiosity," Adam shrugged.

Was that a bit of movement? Crowley couldn't tell. His eyes burned as he strained to see and tried to forget Adam's question. He got slightly distracted by the phonograph, which had started playing "I can't help falling in love with you."

"We might have, I suppose," Zira admitted. "I don't remember."

"What do you mean you don't remember?" Adam asked. "Wasn't it like…perfection and everything?"

_Wise men say, only fools rush in._

"Sort of. Lucifer and the demons were causing a stir though. The Almighty had all our memories erased so that…well, I'm not quite sure actually. Probably so that we wouldn't follow them down the wrong path."

"So you…don't remember anything?" Crowley asked cautiously. Debbie took advantage of the distraction and grabbed the spatula, licking the rest of it away. Crowley didn't notice.

_But I can't help, falling in love with you._

"Not really. Why, do you?"

"Oh, just bits and pieces," Crowley said, trying to play it casual. "A good bit of our memories were wiped to keep us loyal and all that. But just enough was left so we could remember why we were fighting heaven. Mostly…bad memories."

He leaned back on the couch and closed his eyes. Zira quickly grabbed Debbie from his arms, much to Crowley's annoyance. _Shall I stay, would it be a sin?_

"That's interesting," Adam said.

"Is it?" Zira asked, laying Debbie in her bassinet. "Why?"

"I don't know. It just is."

_If I can't help, falling in love with you._

Adam went back to writing his daily letter.

_Day 31._

_We celebrated Debbie's one-month birthday today. Aziraphale (he won't let me call him Zira) made cake, even though she couldn't eat anything. Crowley was very insistent that she couldn't even lick some icing. She likes looking at Crowley when she's sad, but we don't know why._

_Crowley can see some blurry shapes now, but he says it's worse than trying to see underwater in a lake. He found a baby duck outside last evening and wants to keep it. Aziraphale said no, but I'm pretty sure he's hiding it somewhere in his plants. Dog keeps wanting to go in there but I won't let him._

_Aziraphale's started reading me and Debbie bedtime stories now. Crowley sits on the steps to listen. He thinks that we can't see him, but his shadow is pretty clear. Aziraphale hasn't said anything to him about it._

_—Adam._

"You do an awful lot of writing for someone who complains about it," Aziraphale remarked, sitting down to look over the prophecies.

The phonograph, to Crowley's chagrin, started playing Can't Fight This Feeling. He wondered vaguely how the two songs would ever been connected on the same record. It probably had something to do with Adam.

"I suppose I've gotten used to it," Adam said.

"And you're bored," Crowley said.

_Oh, I can't fight this feeling any longer..._

"No, I'm not," Adam protested. "Not a lot anyway," he added.

"It might be time to send you home then," Aziraphale sighed.

_And yet I'm still afraid to let it flow..._

"No, don't do that! I'm not actually bored, really. I just wish Them could be here too."

"You've been here for two weeks. That's a pretty long spring break at a stretch," he pointed out.

"Not for me. I'm staying."

_What started out as friendship has grown stronger..._

He crossed his arms and looked at the angel calmly. Aziraphale finally nodded, although he still didn't look too happy about it.

_I only wish I had the strength to let it show..._

Adam checked the trunk and found two letters waiting.

_Dear Adam,_

_Anathema finally woke up from the coma today. Ask Aziraphale if it has any significance, being the one-month birthday and all. I don't think there is, but Pepper is insistent. She couldn't come today, so it's just me and Brian. She wants to come and visit. Do you think that would be alright?_

_—Wensleydale_

_Anathema learned about the bet and wants to join. She says six weeks and four days exactly. I asked if there was a prophecy about it but she said no. Look anyway. If there is, then she's cheating and can't play._

_—Brian_

"Anathema's awake!" he exclaimed happily.

Aziraphale sighed in relief. "Thank…well. Thank somebody anyway."

"Thank goodness," Crowley offered. "That's pretty neutral. Or Pete. We don't know anybody named Pete, do we?"

_'Cause I feel so secure when we're together..._

"Not on Heaven's side," Aziraphale said.

"Wensleydale wants to know if it has any significance that it's Debbie's birthday."

_You give my life direction..._

"I don't think so," Aziraphale said. "It shouldn't. But tell them to keep an eye on her anyway."

Adam nodded. "Pepper wants me to ask if she can come and visit."

_You make everything so clear..._

"No," Crowley said without hesitating. "Not a chance. It's far too dangerous for anything other than a letter to cross back and forth."

"How are we going to get back then?"

"By plane. Like normal humans."

"You're joking," Aziraphale said. "That'll take hours and hours!"

"Yes, but it's safer. If Pepper comes, then she'll have to stay here with us, and there's no room except the couch."

Aziraphale started to object, but then thought better of it.

_And even as I wander, I'm keeping you in sight..._

"Fair enough," Adam said quickly. He resisted the urge to look back at the empty, unused bed in the library. "I just had to ask anyway. Can I look through the prophecies now?"

"What for?"

"To see if there's anything about Anathema waking up," Adam said. It was a lame excuse and he knew it, but he wasn't sure what else to say. "If she's still demon possessed or not."

_You're a candle in the window on a cold, dark winter's night..._

Aziraphale nodded wearily and slid it across the table. "I doubt you'll find anything new."

"We might," Adam said hopefully.

"Kids. So optimistic," Crowley huffed from the couch.

Debbie started crying and he leaned over the bassinet to pick her up. Aziraphale watched nervously.

_And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might..._

"I'm not going to drop her," Crowley promised. "I think I can see well enough to hold her."

"How did you…?"

"I could _feel_ you staring."__

_ __ _

_ __ _

"Right. Sorry."

_And I can't fight this feeling anymore. I've forgotten what I started fighting for..._

Aziraphale stood abruptly and grabbed his gardening boots. "I'm going to do a little weeding. Shout if you need me."

He left in a rush, and Adam looked over at Crowley.

_It's time to bring this ship into the shore, and throw away the oars forever._

"You remember, don't you?"

"Remember what?"

"You knew Aziraphale back in heaven. I could see it on your face."

Crowley swallowed nervously. He remembered creating the stars, spreading galaxies across the universe. He remembered just before the Fall, when the soon-to-be-demons anger accidentally got him swept up in the crowd. Crowley hadn't actually been challenging the Almighty's authority, not really. He just wanted to know why the humans had to suffer, and if maybe there was a better way to carry out the Great Plan. All the other memories seemed twisted, angels shunning them even before they were cast out. Sneers and cold glances from the ones that blindly obeyed.

But there was one memory that seemed clear, untouched by demonic influence. He was flying, stretching his brilliant white wings through the stars, racing toward Alpha Centauri. There was another angel with him, which he could see in brief flashes. The face of the other angel were almost always obscured by wings, but he was 95% positive that it was Zira. Laughter echoed in the vast emptiness. It was the last time he had been happy.

_'Cause I can't fight this feeling anymore. I've forgotten what I started fighting for._

"Crowley?" Adam prompted.

"Maybe. I'm not sure. Our memories were altered… I don't even know if they're true."

"So why didn't you say anything?"

_And if I have to crawl up through the floor, come crashing through your door..._

"That's the first time we've ever talked about it."

"Really?"

"It's a painful subject," he said through gritted teeth.

"Oh. Sorry."

_Baby I can't fight this feeling anymore._

"Besides, there are things he's not telling me either."

"Like?" Adam prompted.

"Nothing. Nevermind. I shouldn't have said anything. You need to mind your own business."

"Well I think that all three of us know perfectly well there's a spare bed Pepper can use if she comes."

Crowley's jaw dropped, not even hearing as the second verse played out. "How did you…?"

"I got up early one morning and ran into Aziraphale leaving your room, so that how I found out about it," Adam said casually. "And then when I went to get the magic box one day, I saw a book under the pillow. Which I think means somehow _you_ found out about it."__

_ __ _

_ __ _

"Yeah, and your point would be?"

"Why aren't you talking about it?"

"Again, you really should mind your own business."

"I'm bored."

"Doesn't mean you should go around snooping either."

"Maybe not. But I wasn't snooping, exactly. It just happened."

"Asking questions, on the other hand…"

"That comes out of boredom and is a perfectly reasonable explanation. What's not reasonable is why you won't answer."

Crowley gritted his teeth. "I would have had a field day raising you," he sighed. "Fine. I'll give you an answer. When I think of one."

_And even as I wander, I'm keeping you in sight..._

"So you don't have an answer?"

"No, I…" He sighed. "There are just some things that we don't talk about. The Fall is one of them, for obvious reasons. The second…he should have mentioned it first, but he didn't. And I don't know why. It's like…it's like if Brian found out you still slept with a baby blanket and sucked your thumb. You don't mention it. It's weird."

_You're a candle in the window on a cold, dark winter's night..._

"I don't do that…"

"Whatever, you get my point."

"So we all know about it, but Aziraphale doesn't know that you know."

"Yeah, and it's gonna stay that way."

_And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might..._

Crowley looked around suddenly. "Is it just me or did it get darker in here?"

"It looks like it might rain," Adam said, looking out the window.

Gently, he laid Debbie down in the bassinet again. "Don't we have an umbrella in this place?"

_And I can't fight this feeling anymore..._

Adam brought a nice big one into existence and handed it to him. Crowley took it and charged out into the garden, eyes straining and glad to get away from the dangerously accurate lyrics the phonograph was spewing. The garden had expanded significantly now, growing from a few small beds to a practical maze. Adam had even added a few small fruit trees for Aziraphale, who liked to have different layers. Crowley could smell the humidity increasing and knew the rain was imminent, but he couldn't see any large patches of white.

"Aziraphale?" he called.

There was no reply, and his chest tightened in a slight panic. Inhaling shakily, Crowley reminded himself that that it was probably nothing. It started sprinkling slightly, and he quickly opened the umbrella.

"Angel, it's about to rain, come inside!" he called again. "Or at least let me leave you the umbrella…"

"Over here," he heard Zira say quietly.

The entire sky seemed to fall to earth suddenly, a massive deluge that quickly soaked anyone to the bone within seconds. Crowley rounded an apple tree and finally saw a blurry white shape sitting on the ground. Within a few steps he had brought the umbrella over.

"Blimey, I'm mostly blind and even I could see that storm coming," he teased, trying to chase away the nerves.

"Sorry. Just thinking," he said somewhat hurriedly. "Come on."

Crowley laid a hand on his shoulder, stopping him. "What is it?"

"Nothing, I'm fine. Everything's fine."

Crowley could tell by his voice that he'd been crying. He could also tell that Zira wasn't looking at him. Slowly, and somewhat awkwardly since he couldn't see too clearly, Crowley turned him around again.

"Zira," he pleaded gently, unable to hold it back this time.

He could feel the angel deflate like a balloon, and was it his imagination or did he even lean into his hand a little?

"They're just kids," Zira said finally, the words tumbling out. "I don't know if sending Adam home would be better, or if he's safer here. I just…I hate dragging them into this."

"We didn't drag them into anything," Crowley reminded him. "It wasn't our decision to make them antichrists."

"Yes, but…how are we supposed to stop it? We've got nothing. What happens when they do find us? What'll they do then?"

"We still have the flaming swords somewhere, don't we? And I've almost got my vision back so hopefully I'll be able to actually use it when the time comes."

"I don't want the time to come," Zira said desperately. "I want to stop it before that happens. I don't…I don't want it all to end."

"As much as we want to, I don't think we can," he sighed. "And I really do think having Adam here is the safest place for him."

"But that's not selfish, is it?"

"Because it's the safest thing for us as well? No. That doesn't change the truth of the matter."

"I feel like we're…like we're using him. Like we're no better than the others."

"Don't think like that," Crowley said firmly. "We're not using him at all. He came and then stayed of his own free will. We've made it very clear that he doesn't have to stay, but he still does. Besides, I know for a fact that we're better than either Heaven or Hell."

"Really?" he asked, confused.

"Obviously. Because we've created our own side. We're questioning both at the same time, and basically avoiding what they're doing. We actually care about the world, but they just want to use it as a battleground. By definition, we are doing better than them."

"I suppose that's true," Zira said, sounding only slightly convinced. A crash of thunder caused him to jump, tensing instantly. "But suppose they find us. If Gabriel..."

"Have you been having nightmares, too?" he asked sharply. Silence. Crowley sighed, realizing he should have asked a long time ago. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"They're not that bad..."

"They're not as bad as mine, you mean."

"W-well," he stammered. "It's not like I didn't have them before..."

His voice trailed off, and Crowley clenched his jaw angrily, remembering his brief stint in Heaven. Over the centuries, he had heard Aziraphale complain ocassionally about Gabriel. The few times he saw their interactions he could tell it upset the angel. But it hadn't been until the body swap that he saw just how awful the archangel treated him. The next time he saw Gabriel...

"Crowley? I'm alright, really."

"You don't need to carry this all on your own, you know."

"Sorry?"

"Just 'cause I got hit the hardest doesn't mean I need to be sheltered from everything else."

Zira sighed. "I know, I know."

Crowley squinted hard, trying to get his eyes to focus. They wouldn't. It was frustrating not being able to tell what Zira was thinking, but at least he could feel how nervous he was under his hand, looking around for danger. Without thinking, he wrapped one arm across Zira's shoulders and pulled him into a hug. He gasped in surprise, but returned it gratefully. He was sopping wet already, but Crowley didn't care.

"We're in this together," Crowley said gently. "We need to be together on this, that's kind of the whole point. You've had to carry it on your own for Who-knows how long, but you don't have to anymore."

Zira leaned into his shoulder. "Thank you."

Crowley's heart raced, the tenderness of the moment threatening to overwhelm him.

"Now let's go inside so you can dry off," he said, moving away before he did something stupid.

Zira grabbed his forearm, stopping him, and Crowley turned expectantly, trying to ignore the lift in his chest at the touch.

"Wrong way, dear," Zira sighed softly.

"Oh." _Well, that was disappointing_. "Must have gotten turned around."__

_ __ _

_ __ _

"Well, I can't blame you. It's a terrible night," he said kindly. "I could do with a nice drink. Tea, of course. Or coffee."

Sighing, he linked arms with Crowley and they started weaving back through the garden. After many attempts at trial and error, they had discovered that walking arm in arm was the best and least awkward way to lead Crowley around*. He actually hadn't needed the method in nearly a week, but continued to let Zira think so. With every day that his sight improved, it was one less day where they could walk like this. At this point, Crowley was savoring every moment.

He didn't know it, but so was Aziraphale. He didn't want any of it to end. He didn't want to lose the life that they had. It was different from the feeling he had eleven years ago. This time, it was more personal. He didn't want to lose Adam and Them, or Anathema, Newton, even Shadwell and Tracy. But most importantly, he didn't want to lose Crowley. The weight of Crowley's hand on his shoulder still lingered, as did the sound of Zira that had completely wrecked him. Once again, he was wondering what on earth was going on in Crowley's head. Evidently Crowley viewed him as his best friend; that had slipped out a few times, though Aziraphale made a point not to mention it so as not to embarsss him. But there had been times recently—take the church bombing in 1941, for instance— where he had wondered if maybe, just maybe, there was something else. Yet Angels could feel love emanating from anybody or any place, and when he looked, there was nothing there. Crowley was a demon, and therefore incapable of love. At least in one sense of the word. On the other hand...

"You alright?" Crowley asked, interrupting the worrying spiral that Aziraphale always got into when he pondered this.

"Yes, sorry. Lost in thought."

"Thought so. Don't get too glum, otherwise Adam will start asking concerned questions."

With a start, Aziraphale realized that Crowley almost always knew what he was doing, without seeing him. He wondered if he'd be able to do the same, if the situation had been reversed. He probably could have. After all, they wouldn't have been able to pull off the body swap if they didn't know each other so well. Still, the thought warmed him.

As they approached the house, they could hear Dog barking and Adam yelling, and quickened their steps. Aziraphale let go of Crowley and ran the last few paces, throwing open the door in alarm.

"No, bad Dog!" Adam yelled, vaulting over the arm chair.

Dog was currently running in circles around the living room, chasing something small but incredibly fast. A lamp had already been knocked over and the rug was scrunched up on one side of the room. Aziraphale turned and looked back at Crowley, who was squinting at the blurry scene in confusion.

"You kept the duck, didn't you?"

"Oh! Is that what he's chasing?"

"I'm so sorry, I don't know how she got out," Adam apologized.

"Crowley…"

"She imprinted on me!" Crowley protested, diving to catch Dog as he sped past. He missed. "What was I supposed to do?"

Aziraphale calmly stepped in the middle of the fray and scooped up the baby duckling. Crowley looked up at him pleadingly.

"You can't send her back now, there's a storm…"

Aziraphale sighed, unable to resist the look on Crowley's face. It got him every time. Gently, he handed back the duckling, which Crowley protectively held close to his chest.

"So…can I keep her?"

"Yes, I suppose so."

"Thank you," Crowley grinned.

Aziraphale couldn't help but smile back. If anyone had been paying attention, they would have noticed it was the one he used only with Crowley, the thin shy one where he couldn't quite suppress everything he was feeling in that moment. Adam was paying attention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *For the record, this is not how you do sighted guide with a blind person. But this is Aziraphale and Crowley we're talking about here, who've known each other for 6,000 years so they know exactly who each other moves. Also, Crowley might have purposefully messsed up the other methods they tried so he could get to a closer position with his angel. Just saying.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was looking at pictures for reference and YA'LL. AZIRAPHALE'S EYES ARE MORE OF A GREY. A blue grey, true, depending on the lighting, but more often than not they're grey. I have never felt so shocked and betrayed because like ALL the fanart has him with blue eyes. So before you come at me for describing his eyes as grey, go stare at Michael Sheen's eyes for half an hour and come back with some good pictures to change my mind. Grey eyes are beautiful too so they deserve some love and nice descriptions. Also. Michael Sheen's eyes. Just go look at them anyway.

It was the light that woke Crowley, five and a half weeks after Falling Again. He blinked, nearly turning over when he noticed the duck's nest. Rubbing his eyes, he sat up and squinted. Every feather on Queenie the Duck was in crystal clear detail. Crowley inhaled sharply. He could see.

Turning, he looked over at Zira, still sleeping peacefully. To his surprise, nothing looked vastly different. He looked exactly the same as he had always been. Crowley watched him sleeping for a moment longer before quietly slipping over to the window. His chest still hurt but at the moment he didn't care. A dazzling array of colors hit him no matter where he looked. There were so many shades of greens in the garden, so many shades of blue in the sky. Had the world always been this beautiful?

In the reflection, he saw Zira wake up with a start. He delicately stood from the rocker, careful not to make a sound, and tiptoed to open the door.

"You know, angel," Crowley said suddenly before he had reached it. "That really can't be the most comfortable sleeping spot in the world."

Zira turned around slowly. "You can see?!"

Crowley glanced over his shoulder, smirking. "Yeah."

"Wonderful!" Zira said, coming to join him at the window. "Like…just this morning? Or…?"

"Yesterday you were still just a blur," Crowley said. "Everything sort of clicked into place last night I suppose."

"Ah. Well you did have a terrible nightmare," Zira said, frowning seriously. "That's…that's why I was in here, you see. Must have sat down for a minute and fallen back asleep."

"Right," Crowley nodded, playing along. More than anything, he just wanted to say, I know you've been in here for weeks, please don't stop now. But now that he could see the angel's face it made it all the more confusing.

"Anyway, that might have…shocked your system enough. Or something."

"Probably."

"Breakfast?"

"Sure, I'll whip something up," Crowley offered.

"I didn't mean…"

"Crepes?"

"We can't eat just anything, Crowley. We can't miracle it away anymore."

"Yeah, but come on. We're celebrating."

Zira sighed, watching him for a moment. "I like them," he said at last.

"What?"

"Your eyes. I'll miss the yellow ones but those suit you."

"Oh. I'll have to check them out."

"Crepes sound lovely," he added, smiling somewhat sadly.

"Crepes it is," Crowley nodded.

The living room had a mirror, he remembered, pausing briefly before heading in. Big brown eyes stared back at him, somehow even more striking than his serpentine ones. They didn't quite feel like his own yet, and he shifted uncomfortably. Zira noticed as he slipped into the library.

"They look fine, my dear. You'll get used to them soon enough."

Crowley nodded, turning to say something but the angel had already closed the door. It was strange. Something was different, but he couldn't quite pinpoint what it was. Sighing, he turned to go make crepes. Adam carried Debbie down a few minutes later.

"Good morning, Crowley!" he said brightly. "I take it you got your sight back."

"Wahoo," Crowley said. "Here, mix that for me, won't you? I want to see how much she's grown."

He carefully took Debbie in his arms and brought over to the couch, where the light from the windows reflected in her deep brown eyes. She stretched and yawned happily. Crowley stared deep into her eyes. It was amazing how many nuances and layers the eye had. He didn't know how long he had been staring at her when Zira sat down beside him.

"You alright?" he asked.

"Just taking it all in," he said as Debbie grabbed one of his fingers. "She's grown quite a bit."

"You still held her."

"Yes," Crowley said, turning to look at him. "But seeing it's different."

The light caught Zira's eyes as well, and it was all Crowley could do not to gasp. Everything else about the angel looked basically the same, but there was a new depth to his eyes. They were like a galaxy, a billion stars tucked away in a stormy sea of silver dappled with pockets of cerulean blue. Thin streaks of gold struck out from the pupil like the aftermath of an explosion. Then the early morning sunbeams hit it just right, creating a perfect sapphire. Zira turned to look at him, and Crowley had to remind himself to breathe. He wanted to look away, fearing his own eyes might betray him, but it was next to impossible.

"What?" Zira asked.

"Just…looking at your eyes," Crowley managed. "Never really gave much thought to eyes before."

"No," Zira said softly, looking straight back. "I suppose I haven't either."

Debbie cooed softly, allowing Crowley to finally break free of Zira's gaze. He realized Adam was being extremely quiet in the kitchen.

"Adam? How's it coming?" he called.

"I finished stirring in the rest of the ingredients for you," Adam said. "I think they're ready to start frying."

Crowley handed Debbie back to Zira, careful not to look too closely, and quickly went to the stove. Adam was watching him closely, a peculiar glint in his eye. Crowley glared at him to keep quiet.

...

"But wherever they go, and whatever happens to them on the way, in that enchanted place on the top of the Forest a little boy and his Bear will always be playing. The end."

Aziraphale sighed contentedly and gently closed the book so as not to wake Debbie. Lounging on the floor, Adam yawned and looked up at him mournfully.

"That's it?"

"And you said you were too old for Winnie the Pooh," Aziraphale smiled, lovingly tucking the book back into its proper place on the bookshelf. "Don't worry, there are others we can read next."

"Alright. Just don't tell Pepper."

"I'll read it to her when we get back."

"She won't let you. She said it's for kids."

"Ah, so that's where you got your ideas, is it? Never judge a book by it's cover or what your friends say. You have to read it for yourself. Besides, nobody's ever too old for Winnie the Pooh."

"Even when you're a grown-up?"

"When you're a grown-up you'll read them to your own kids and fall in love with it again," Aziraphale promised. "I've seen it time and time again."

"Even if you're a 6,000 year old demon?"

Aziraphale glanced out to the hallway, where Crowley's shadow usually could be seen clearly. Now that he could see, he must have realized that he'd been sitting too close.

"Even Crowley," he said. "Right, dear?"

"Hmph. I'm standing guard," Crowley said from the feet of the stairs. "I didn't even hear the story."

"Of course you didn't," Aziraphale said, shaking his head lightly.

Adam grinned. "Could we start the next one now?"

"No, it's very late. And don't you stay up reading it either now, you hear?"

"Alright," he agreed. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Adam," Aziraphale said fondly, quietly closing the door.

He descended down to sit next to Crowley on the last step.

"I really wasn't listening."

"You've been listening since I started," Aziraphale scoffed. "Don't pretend otherwise."

"Standing guard since you started."

"You were blind."

"So?"

"You told me you didn't like reading once," Aziraphale said.

"Well," Crowley sighed. "It hurt my eyes. They weren't really built for reading."

Aziraphale looked over at him. "Really?"

"I looked through the Prophecies today and it didn't hurt at all," he shrugged. "I've always liked stories though."

"You should have told me. I could have…" He stopped, unsure how to continue.

"I've been fine ever since somebody finally invented audiobooks."

They sat in silence for awhile.

"How long can we keep them here?" Aziraphale finally asked. "It's been six weeks and the demons released Anathema."

"Which could very well be a trap," Crowley pointed out. "Bait us out of hiding."

"And how long do we wait until we know it's not?"

"You're not trying to get rid of them, are you?"

"No! Of course not. I've grown rather fond of Debbie, actually. And I've always liked Adam. I like being here…I'm not ready to give it up yet."

"So why are you even asking?"

"Because she should be with her mother. As much as we can take care of her, we both know we're no substitute for Anathema."

"I know, I know," Crowley sighed. "I just want to be cautious."

Queenie quacked softly above them, and Crowley leaned back, looking at her upside down.

"Oi! Back to your nest, it's bedtime."

"Maybe she's trying to tell you that," Aziraphale joked.

Crowley sighed. "It is getting late," he admitted, slowly getting to his feet.

The human body, they had discovered, took an extremely long time to heal. The bruises had faded fairly quickly, but the long, deep scars that formed still hurt when stretched. And the red marks where their wings had once been still smoldered occasionally.

"Goodnight, angel," he said wearily.

Aziraphale winced, but Crowley didn't see. "Goodnight, Crowley," he said gently, slowly moving to his own room.

He had hardly been in the library/bedroom in the past few weeks, ducking in and out only to grab clothes or a book. Strangely enough, what had started as so cozy and perfect now seemed still and cold. It felt too big, even though it was markedly smaller than Crowley's indoor greenhouse. Reluctantly, Aziraphale peeled back the covers and fluffed the pillow. To his surprise, a book had been shoved under his pillow, which he never would have allowed. He pulled it out, upside down, to find it was Pride and Prejudice. He frowned. Adam was much too young have any interest in Jane Austen and likely never would read her books except for school. It had to have been Crowley.

"You knew," he gasped softly. "Bastard. Why didn't you say anything?"

He swallowed hard and climbed into bed. It felt good physically, much more comfy than the rocking chair, but he was restless. Upstairs, Crowley stared at the empty rocker for a long time before he was finally able to drift off. Both felt lonelier than they had ever been.

...

Crowley sat bolt upright in bed, his throat and chest screaming at him in pain. Smoke had filled the room and his plants were smoldering ruins. Queenie quacked and struggled to get out from under a burning branch, but Crowley didn't care. Sprinting out of bed, he dashed across the hall to the nursery. Everything was on fire, the books, the crib, Adam's mat… The children were nowhere to be found. In a panic, Crowley skipped the stairs entirely, crash landing on the living room floor. Smoke seeped from beneath Zira's door, and he desperately tried to break it down.

"Zira, get out there!" he screamed, voice raw.

There was no answer. It was like the bookshop all over again. He spun around the room, looking for something that could help. Beelzebub stood in the middle of the room, her whole body burning with hellfire. In one arm she held Agnes' prophecies, and in the other she had Debbie. She shook her head at him mockingly.

"It won't help," she said. "You're too late. It's amazing how much information can be gleaned from a nightmare."

Was it a nightmare? Or was it real? Crowley couldn't tell.

"Sorry about the eyes, we really overdid it," Beelzebub continued. "But we needed human eyes to tell us where you were. Eyes really are a window to the soul, don't you think?"

There was too much detail for an ordinary nightmare, but on the other hand, Hell couldn't find them based on a nightmare, could they? Nothing made sense. He couldn't think straight. He tried to wake up but he couldn't. Maybe it was real. He lunged forward, trying to grab Debbie, but a large chain-link lasso suddenly fell over him, bounding him tightly and nearly re-breaking his ribs. Hastur cackled behind him.

"Not so fast," Beelzebub mocked. "She's ours now. We're going to raise her up the right way, this time, so that she will destroy the world."

"NO!" Crowley screamed, tears streaming down his face. "You can't do this!"

"We already have, thanks to you."

She nodded briskly towards the door and Hastur kicked it open. Zira stumbled out weakly, coughing and covered in soot. He looked over at Crowley wide eyed.

"Crowley, what have you done?" he asked, a betrayed look on his face.

"I didn't do anything! It's not my fault!"

Smoke filled his lungs and he coughed violently, unable to keep speaking. Evidently it was too much for Zira to handle either, and Crowley watched him pass out straight into the flames. He screamed in agony as Hastur tightened the chains, keeping him rooted in one spot. He had to break free, he had to save Zira… It had to be a nightmare. It couldn't end like this. The chains tightened even further, and he realized he couldn't breathe. Debbie began to cry, and Beelzebub leaned in, snarling at Crowley.

"Failed again. See you in Hell."

Crowley wanted nothing more than to spit in her face, but his throat wouldn't open. His vision started to blur and darken. Hopelessly, he looked over at Zira one last time, only to see his body engulfed in flames.

_If Zira's dead, I might as well die, too. We lost. Sorry Anathema…_

He squeezed his eyes shut, about to surrender when a bucket of cold water hit his face. Air filled his lungs, clean, cool air untouched by smoke. Again, Crowley sat bolt upright in bed, only this time for real, clutching his chest and gasping in relief. Zira and Adam sat on either side of him, looking extremely concerned. It had been another nightmare after all. He looked around and realized his sheets and pillow had been torn to shreds, and his shirt was missing completely. Queenie quacked peacefully in the corner.

"You stopped breathing," Zira cried, shaken. "We couldn't wake you up…"

"What do you mean I stopped breathing?" Crowley asked, practically wheezing.

"He almost had to give you CPR again," Adam said.

"Crowley, if they have this much power over you in a dream…" Zira began.

Panicking, Crowley leapt out of bed, nearly knocking over Adam in the process as he ran to the nursery. Everything was fine, Debbie was fine. He bolted downstairs and straight out into the garden, searching the sky in terror. Zira and Adam ran after him.

"They know where we are," Crowley gasped, practically spinning as he looked for the armies of Hell. "They're coming."

"Crowley, no one can know where we are," Adam protested.

"Check the safeguards."

"But…"

"CHECK THEM AGAIN." Crowley roared, the air burning in his lungs. Adam took a step backwards in alarm.

"Crowley, calm down," Zira said. "It was just a nightmare."

"No, it wasn't!" He couldn't get the image of Zira's burning body out of his mind. He turned to Adam. "Is there a way you can get us our powers back?"

"I couldn't even wake you up!" Adam cried.

"You could still try!"

"Crowley!" Zira yelled as Adam stepped behind him automatically.

Unable to stay still, Crowley ran back inside the house, frantically looking through Agnes' prophecies.

"Adam, go upstairs," Zira said quietly.

He moved to stand across from Crowley, grabbing his arms and pinning them to the table.

"No," Crowley grunted, trying to break free.

"Stop it!" Zira hissed. "He's just a boy, you're scaring him."

"He should be scared," Crowley shot back. "Hell. Is. Coming."

"Are you sure you're awake?"

"Definitely."

"How do you know?"

"Because you're not on fire, and the house isn't burning to the ground," he snarled, trying to keep his voice from breaking. From the look on Aziraphale's face, he hadn't been too successful.

"We can't go on like this," Aziraphale said after a moment. He let go of Crowley, who started pacing around the room. "We can't wait for years and years until Debbie can help us fight. No matter what we do, there will be a war."

"You don't know that!"

"Yes, I do! One way or another, they're coming and we can't stop them."

"I can think of something!"

"It's been six weeks! And you had months before that!"

"Yeah, well it's not the easiest problem to solve, angel."

"DON'T call me that!" Aziraphale exploded in anger. "I'm not an Angel anymore! I Fell. I got cast out. Rejected. Everything that made me an Angel is dead. I've got no wings, no powers…do you think you're the only one that suffered?!"

Crowley turned and glared at him. "No, you're right. You're not an Angel, and you haven't been for a long time. In fact, you're about the furthest thing from an Angel besides a Demon. Frankly, I'm surprised you didn't Fall a long time ago. You were a horrible Angel."

Aziraphale swallowed and looked away. "You don't mean that," he said.

"Yes, I do. Angels are cruel and heartless under a facade of sunshine and holiness. Oh, you saved the world? Here's some hellfire, now just walk straight in on your own accord. You don't want to do that? Too bad, just shut your fucking mouth and die already."

Aziraphale blinked in shock. Crowley had never talked much about the trials. Is that what they had told him?

"And where were all those "righteous warriors" all those times you nearly got discorporated? They didn't care. They would have blamed you for getting into the mess and made you do mountains worth of paperwork."

Crowley had been there every time, Aziraphale realized. Alexandria 48 BC. Scandinavia 832. Paris 1793. London 1941. And those were just the big ones. There were countless of other, smaller level events through the ages.

"You, on the other hand," Crowley continued, pointing almost accusingly. "You're not like them at all. What other Angel has ever, ever been kind to a Demon after the Fall? They barely even talk to each other and even then it's barely civil. What Angel would go undercover into Hell to save a Demon's life? I can't even imagine the pain it must have cost you."

"Pain?" Aziraphale asked, confused. That's when he suddenly realized that Heaven was consecrated ground. So consecrated, in fact, that it would have been like a hundred holy water humidifiers for Crowley, even though he was technically using Aziraphale's body. "Crowley…"

Crowley didn't hear him and continued ranting. "You haven't been an Angel for a long time. Probably since you gave away that flaming sword of yours. What other Angel would have done that? They wouldn't dare go against the Great Plan. Not even the Demons would have done that, it was too kind even it was disobeying the Almighty. You on the other hand didn't even ask questions, you just did it."

_Is he complimenting me?_ Aziraphale wondered. He suddenly became very much aware that Crowley was shirtless. "Crowley…"__

"Nobody else in Heaven or Hell, or anyone through Earth's history is that kind. Nobody else would have just let me save those children. Angels," he spat, almost like he was cursing, "don't care as much as you do. Angels don't collect old books and carefully go about preserving the very history of the humans they try to save. Angels don't go support new restaurants to help out the struggling locals. Angels don't want to try every new kind of food humans invent just to see what it's like. They don't light up like a beacon and marvel at all the new flavors. Angels don't give out free miracles just because some poor soul is suffering. Angels don't make friends with other humans, they barely even talk to them. Angels absolutely don't dance just for the fun of it. Angels don't delight in humanity. Angels don't care about tragedies as long as the souls go to Heaven, they don't even think about the ones left behind. Angels don't mourn the loss of human lives. If you were like any of the other Angels I certainly wouldn't talk to you, let alone love you…"

"Wha…" He felt like the air had been knocked out of him.

"…It should have been the other way around. You should have been considered The most angelic out of all of them, not the worst…"

"Crowley!"

"If more Angels were like you then maybe we wouldn't be in this mess in the first place. But you, you don't deserve to be called an Angel, you shouldn't be counted up with that lot. No, no they don't deserve to be called Angels. That's never why I called you that…"

With one, swift motion, Aziraphale shoved Crowley up against the wall. That managed to shut him up, as he hadn't quite expected that level of aggression from Zira. It was at that moment that Crowley suddenly realized what he had said; what he had always meant to say but never could, but not exactly what he had been trying to say in that particular moment. His face reddened and he scrambled to find the right cover up. Aziraphale opened and closed his mouth for a minute, now suddenly caught tongue tied. In the end, he gave up, and kissed him instead.

The poor demon was too stunned to do anything except make a strangled noise deep in his throat, wondering if Hell had changed torture tactics and he was still dreaming. The moment, which seemed to last forever and at the same time far too brief, passed when Zira pulled back, stuttering apologetically.

"Sorry," he gasped breathlessly. "You wouldn't shut up…"

Gasping, he buried his head in Crowley's shoulder, still wrestling with the ever present guilt from heaven.

If it was a dream, Crowley decided, then he would damn well take advantage of it. Gently, he cupped Zira's face with his hands and pulled him back in. It was slow and cautious at first, then suddenly gaining in intensity as Aziraphale decided _fuck heaven, let's do this_. He wrapped his arms around Crowley, practically crying in relief. Six thousand years of waiting finally released in a fiery display of passion, exploding an aura so bright that even Adam, secretly spying from the top of the stairs, could see it. Grinning, he quietly tiptoed back to the nursery, bringing the letter trunk with him with only a thought.__

_ __ _

_ __ _

Crowley moaned softly as Zira's hands worked up and down his bare chest. He moved down and started kissing his neck.

"Crowley," Zira sighed in his ear, full of longing and passion and unspoken words. It sent shivers down Crowley's spine. "Crowley..."

"Mmm?"

"Look at me." Crowley raised his eyes slowly, heart pounding. "No, don't panic, nothing's wrong," Zira promised softly. "I just had to look at you when I..." He paused, hands caressing Crowley's face gently.

"Angel?"

"I love you," he whispered.

Crowley leaned on him heavily under the weight of all the emotions, gasping for breath. It was too much. After so many years of holding it back, he felt like he'd explode if he'd say it now. So instead he pulled Zira back into him, pulling him closer and closer until there was no space between them, and even then it still felt like they were too far apart. He didn't have to say "I love you." Not now, anyway. Later, yes, but for now, this was enough, and Zira understood. It wasn't until his knees started to give out that Crowley remembered that oxygen was a very good thing, and he should probably breathe at some point.

"Easy, I got you," Zira said, supporting him. "Need to sit down?"

Crowley nodded, still struggling to catch his breath. Zira moved toward the bedroom door, but Crowley gently took his arm and stopped him.

"Hang on..."

Zira turned around, the moonlight glistening in his dewy eyes. Crowley had to think very hard to remember what he had been saying.

"This isn't going too fast for you, is it? We could…sit on the couch if you like."

"My dear boy," he said, gently caressing his cheek. "For the first time in 6,000 years we are finally free. I think I've wanted this far longer than I care to admit." He furrowed his brow as he thought for a second, and his voice became firmer with every syllable. "Not to mention we're human and the second apocalypse is coming. I'm not wasting a second longer and neither heaven nor hell can stop me."

"Heh." A small laugh escaped Crowley's lips as he tried to remember how to breathe.

"What?"

"You're really cute when you're feisty," he said breathlessly.

Aziraphale pulled him close, kissing him with every fiber of his being as he dragged him inside. It quite literally knocked Crowley off his feet, and he was grateful for the perfect positioning of the bed. He leaned back on his elbows and looked up at his angel adoringly.

"If this is a dream," Crowley murmured as Zira leant over to kiss him again, "Can we do this again when I wake up?"

"Who says it's your dream?" Zira said, a glint in his eye that took Crowley's breath away again. "I'd watch out tomorrow morning if I were you."

"Oh, I'm counting on it."

"Shut up."

"Make me," he begged, voice barely above a whisper.

"Is that a challenge?" Aziraphale asked, smirking down at him.

"Maybe."

"Hmm. Careful what you wish for."

He threw all of his weight against Crowley, kissing him hungrily as he pushed him down deeper into the bed. Crowley melted under Zira's warmth, wrapping his legs around Zira's back, trying to get him closer than physically possible, moaning as Zira kissed him like he was drowning and Crowley was air. He certainly felt like air. It felt like he was flying and drowning and on fire all at once. It was like a thousand burning stars and an eternity of love exploding all at once, thousands of years catching up. He decided pretty quickly that this was definitely not a dream, because it was a million times better than anything he'd ever hoped for. It had never felt so good, and it had never felt so right.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! Finally caught up to where I was when I had to delete the original from fanfiction.net. 
> 
> Also: Does anybody know how you add italics to the main text? Please help, I can't figure it out.

_It finally happened! Anathema wins! -Adam_

_How do you know it happened? What's your proof? -Pepper_

_Because they were making out. -Adam_

_No way! There has to be a prophecy! -Brian_

_You didn't use your powers, did you? -Wensley_

_She wasn't exact, but it was close enough. And no, I didn't use powers. -Adam_

_Well what are they doing now? -Pepper_

_I don't know and I really don't want to know. -Adam_

_Well where are they? -Pep_

_In A's room. -Adam_

_Adam I think it's high time you went to bed. Back away from the door. -Anathema_

_Don't worry, I brought the trunk up to the nursery while they were arguing. -Adam_

_Arguing? Are you sure they actually confessed? -B._

_Crowley had a nightmare and got really worked up. He just sort of lost control really and started saying how he really felt about things. He accidentally said that he loved A and then next thing I knew they were up against the wall. I left at that point. -Adam_

_What time is it there? -Wensley_

_3:00AM. -Adam_

_Is Debbie ok? I feel like something's wrong. -Anathema_

"You just won the bet, how can something be wrong?" Brian asked incredulously.

"Shh!" Anathema hushed him. Something was changing.

_She only just started crying. How did you know? -Adam_

He got up and started rocking her back to sleep. He certainly didn't want to upset their guardians, although he doubted they were paying much attention. Another note arrived in the trunk but he couldn't read it from this position, and he didn't trust himself to kneel down while holding Debbie. A distant roll of thunder crackled on the horizon.

_That's odd_, Adam thought. It wasn't supposed to rain tonight.__

He looked out the window, and his hold on Debbie tightened protectively. It wasn't thunder. Carefully, he backed away from the window and crouched by the trunk, laying Debbie uncermoniously on the floor. Ignoring the last letter, he quickly scrawled on a piece of paper and sent it through.

_Love bringeth war. Come quick. Bring water guns._

He scooped Debbie into his arms and squeezed himself into a corner, trying to get as far away from the window as possible. Closing his eyes, he exhaled shakily and began focusing his mind on the defenses around the house.

...

It was quite possibly the best morning Aziraphale had ever woken up to, Crowley's head nestled in his shoulder and arms wrapped snugly around his middle. He sighed contentedly and ran his fingers through that soft red hair. Crowley stirred and looked up at him with sleepy brown eyes. Aziraphale had gotten used to them rather quickly. They were still very much Crowley, after all.

"So," Crowley breathed, looking a little surprised. "Not a dream then."

"No. Definitely not," Aziraphale smiled tenderly. "Can we just…stay here forever?"

"I think Adam will have some questions," Crowley laughed lightly.

"He probably already does," Zira chuckled. "Although something tells me he's known for awhile. Actually, did you know that everyone in Tadfield assumed we were a couple? Even Anathema?"

"Really? They didn't say anything about it."

"It was just assumed to be a thing," Zira shrugged. "Pepper only found out the night Debbie was born."

"Hmm." Crowley reached up and ran his fingers through Zira's curly hair fondly. "How long have you loved me, angel?"

Zira looked at him adoringly. "Since 1941. When you saved the books from the bomb."

Crowley blinked in surprise and leaned up on his elbows to look at him properly. "1941?" he asked in astonishment. "Seriously?"

"Well first you walked into a consecrated church and saved my life, and then the books…who wouldn't? I know it must be a bit of a shock going that far back…Wait, hang on. How long have you loved me?"

Crowley racked his brain for an answer. _The first time I saw you in Eden? The first time we accidentally touched, bumping into each other at the Tower of Babel? The first time you asked me to lunch in Rome? When the Library burned in Alexandria? The first time I saved you from being discorporated by Vikings?_ All of those memories were far too early.__

_ __ _

_ __ _

"Why, was it earlier?" Zira asked.

"Paris 1793," Crowley stammered, unable to think properly being this close.

"1793?" Aziraphale cried, equally as astonished. "You mean for two hundred years I didn't notice?"

_More like 6,000_. "Well I suppose it came on gradually for both of us," Crowley offered, simultaneously remembering the thunderbolt that had hit him when Zira said he'd given away the sword. "I didn't see you acting any differently after 1941 either."__

"That's true. Why didn't you say anything though?"

"Why didn't you?" he countered.

"Because I couldn't feel…I didn't know if you loved me back. At least, not in the same way."

"Every time I tried to get close you pushed back."

"I know." He looked down, fingers tracing the pattern on the quilt. "I'm sorry. You should have said something."

"I didn't want you to Fall," Crowley finally confessed. "Not on my account."

Zira looked up at him in surprise. "But no other angels have Fallen since the beginning…"

"I didn't want to risk it. I…I didn't want to risk losing you."

Smiling, Zira leaned over and kissed him again, which Crowley gratefully returned as he pulled him back into the bed.

"Still not satisfied?" the angel teased lightly. "Even after everything last night?"

"With you, never," Crowley whispered, his words hot on Zira's neck as his breathing became more erratic. "Fuck..." he gasped as Zira's hands found just the right spot.

"Hush darling, Adam will hear," he laughed, blushing slightly.

"Do I look like I fucking care? He can go outside. Now shut up and kiss me already, and do that again."

Unfortunately, they were soon interrupted by a knock at the door.

"In a minute, Adam," Aziraphale called somewhat crossly.

"Yeah, it's not Adam," Anathema called. "We've got a problem."

Annoyed, Crowley marched over to the door and swung it open, leaning casually against the frame and glaring at her. Anathema didn't look the least bit fazed at the sight of him, almost as if she expected it. Debbie was strapped in some sort of carrier on her back.

"Little busy here. Can it not wait?"

Smirking, she gave him a one-over. "First of all, it's about damn time. Thanks for earning me $15 extra dollars."

"Pounds, Anathema," Wensleydale groaned, coming over with two steaming mugs of coffee. "It's pounds, not dollars."

"Yeah, I'm not saying I gained 15 pounds."

Aziraphale quickly fumbled around for his nightgown, which had somehow gotten tangled in the sheets at the foot of the bed.

"Well I still say you cheated!" Brian called from the kitchen table, where he was frantically looking through Agnes' prophecies.

"Will you stop looking through the prophecies and help Pepper?" Anathema sighed without turning around. "I didn't cheat."

"I still say you shouldn't have joined in so late," Madame Tracy huffed, currently spreading a line of salt around the entry-ways. "Gave you an unfair advantage knowing what had already happened."

"What…what is going on?" Aziraphale asked, standing just behind Crowley.

"Oh, we had a bet to see how long it would take you to get together," Newton explained, coming down the stairs. "Anathema won."

"A bet?" Crowley repeated, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

"Oh dear," Zira moaned. "Were we that obvious?"

"Darling, you made even me blush," Tracy said. "You were inside my head, you know. I heard everything."

Aziraphale went red.

"Ok, that demands an explanation later," Crowely said, looking down at him with interest. "But, forget the bet, what are you all doing in our house?"

"Oh yeah, the armies of Heaven and Hell are currently trying to break down Adam's shield and come to claim my daughter," Anathema said casually.

"What? How did they find us?" he asked, panicking. Aziraphale laid a comforting hand on his arm.

"I believe you can find that answer in Prophecy #69," Anathema said, handing over a small copy. "Love bringeth war, and yet shall inspire peace simultaneously. Although I think if Agnes knew the word for aura she would have used it here. You see two auras can combine and glow brighter when..."

"Damn it, Agnes!" Face reddening, Crowley crumpled the paper angrily and glared at Anathema. "Your ancestor had a very twisted sense of humor and incredibly bad timing.

"What was it you told me seven months ago when my life was falling apart?" she asked, pretending to think. "Oh yes. She didn't dictate the future only recorded it." She smiled sweetly.

"Shut up," Crowley growled, brushing past her and taking the stairs two at a time.

"How long have you been here?" Aziraphale asked.

"Thirty minutes. Why? You weren't up that late, were you?" she asked in shock.

"Oi, do remember there are wee bairns here," Shadwell yelled. He was polishing his witch-blasting gun in the kitchen. "Have some decency!"

"It's not like we don't know what's going on," Pepper said saltily as she laid water guns out on the living room floor.

"She's just sore she lost," Anathema said. "Now are you going to fight like that?"

Aziraphale looked down and realized his nightgown was both inside out and backwards. Without a word, he shut the door in her face. He was not happy about the interruption, even though he knew it wasn't their fault. Mentally, he tried to prepare himself for the fight as he slipped on the white polo and khaki shorts he had grown accustomed to wearing.

"Oh, please tell me you're not wearing that," Anathema's voice came from the living room, along with several snickers.

Aziraphale re-entered the room to find Crowley wearing the "Too hot for heaven, too cool for hell" tank.

"Why not? I thought it was especially appropriate for today. And I do look good in it, right love?"

He winked at Aziraphale, who blushed heavily.

"Blimey you do move fast once you get started don't you?" Newton said. "When's the wedding?"

"Hush, all of you," Tracy admonished gently. "Adam put some crepes on the table for you."

"Where is Adam?" Crowley asked, gratefully taking a plate.

"In the cellar getting the tunnel ready," Newton said.

"We have a cellar?" Crowley asked.

"You do now."

"And an escape tunnel," Brian added.

"Oh, an escape tunnel," Aziraphale exclaimed. "Wonderful."

"Not for you," Anathema said. "For us."

"Sorry?" he mumbled through crepes.

"We're taking Debbie and Adam away from here," she said quietly.

"Leaving us all to die?" Crowley asked.

"It's the best chance we got," Newton said, eyeing him pointedly.

"Who put you in charge?" Crowley demanded. "Why don't Zira and I take her to a new safe house?"

"I'm actually in charge," Anathema said firmly, "because last time you were in command, you stole my baby."

"Excuse me, you were being possessed by a demon and then fell into a coma for four weeks."

"And I appreciate you looking after her but now that you have no powers and I have no demon inside me, it's best if I look after her."

"Which I completely agree with," Aziraphale said, jumping into the debate, "but why doesn't Adam stay here? He could help us win."

"No," Newton said. "He's been gone from his family for too long. He's just helping us escape and then he's going home, like he should have done a long time ago."

"And what about Them?" Crowley asked, frowning. "Are you sending them out to battle too?"

"With holy water guns," Pepper said.

"This is HELL we're talking about here. They will not hesitate to kill them. Neither will heaven come to think of it."

"Hence the water guns," Pepper repeated.

"There's got to be a better way…"

"Well I'm not handing her over."

"I'm not asking you too," Crowley pleaded. "I just…"

"We can't run forever laddie," Shadwell said. "And if this is how we go, then so be it. I've lived my life."

"They haven't lived theirs," Crowley snapped angrily, pointing at Brian, Pepper, and Wensleydale. "This isn't like you, Anathema!"

"Well these aren't normal times, either!" she yelled. Debbie whimpered. "The War is coming whether you're ready for it not!"

"But if an Apocalypse comes then we won't get to live life anyway," Brian pointed out.

"And if that's the case, then I'd rather try to fight it where it matters," Wensleydale added.

"Look, we've already argued this with them," Tracy sighed. "Now we can continue the argument and waste time, OR we can come up with a plan."

"Hey," Adam said, drawing their attention to a small door under the stairs. Dog, now transformed back into more of a Great Dane, whined softly. "The tunnel's ready."

Anathema nodded her thanks. "Do your best," she encouraged the others. "Try not to die."

She turned and briskly walked toward the cellar door. Debbie started crying and automatically reached an arm out toward Crowley, who reached out in response.

"Good luck," Newton sighed, following them.

"Adam," Crowley said, letting his arm drop.

Adam hesitated at the door, looking back at them all sadly. Crowley sighed and bit his lip.

"Take care of them."

Nodding, Adam turned and disappeared into the darkness.

...

Aziraphale stared out the window of his little room, watching the army of angels try to break Adam's barrier. They did not look pleased. The door behind him opened and closed softly, and in a moment Crowley had wrapped his arms around his neck, hugging him from behind. Zira reached up and took his hand, not wanting to take his eyes off the angels for a second. Together, they stood in silence for a long time.

"It's not fair," he said finally.

"I know," Crowley whispered into his ear.

"I thought we were finally rid of them."

"I know."

It was hard to resist the anger and bitterness he felt in his chest. "We should have had more time."

"Hey, at least we got one night," Crowley said, trying to cheer him up.

"I don't want just one night," Aziraphale said, turning to face him at last. "I want 6,000."

Crowley sighed, pressing their foreheads together. "Me too. But at least we get to face this together."

"And what happens…after?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, frowning slightly.

Aziraphale tried to form the words he didn't really want to say, tried to explain his fears and suspicions that had been building for awhile. "Didn't you ever wonder why I didn't have nightmares? What if that means... Well what I'm saying is...do we even have an afterlife option? And if we do...what if we don't go to the same place?"

"One last act of retribution," Crowley realized, exhaling softly.

"Exactly."

Crowley looked over his shoulder out the window, thinking. "Well if it does...I'll find you. Or you'll find me, like you did before. We'll find each other. Eventually."

"Eventually," Zira sighed, not sounding too convinced. Crowley looked back at him.

"We always do, even if it takes a few hundred years."

"Or a thousand."

"Even if it's a million," he promised. "I'll come."

"So will I," Zira said resolutely, raising his chin in determination.

All the same, he looked back to the window worryingly.

"Would you have done it all over again?" Crowley asked.

"Done what?"

"All of this," he said, gesturing to the house. "The past few weeks. Last night. Was it worth it?"

Aziraphale raised Crowley's hand to his lips, kissing it tenderly. "Every second, my dear."

Crowley looked into his eyes, and accidentally went a little too deep again. He inhaled sharply, his body suddenly reminding him to breathe.

"Are you alright?" Zira asked, looking slightly concerned.

"You tend to stop my brain from working occasionally," Crowley stammered. "You sort of…take my breath away. And words. Words don't work so well either."

"Oh dear," he said with a fond smile. "Whatever shall we do about that?"

He pulled him close, kissing him gently. Crowley leant into him, pushing him up against the bookshelf. Neither of them wanted to let go.

The knock at the door forced them to.

"They've broken the barrier, boys," Shadwell called. "It's time."

"No," Crowley whispered, squeezing his eyes shut in denial.

Gently, Aziraphale lifted his chin and forced their eyes to meet. "Together," he said.

Nodding, Crowley swallowed his emotions and grabbed his sword. "Together."

...

Adam had been quietly thinking in the midst of the hectic battle preparations. In particular, he was thinking about Prophecy 69. There was one part that he didn't understand. Crowley and Aziraphale sending out an aura that broke through his shield and alerting the angels and demons to their location was one thing. That was the love bringeth war part. But how would it inspire peace?

"Adam, keep up," Anathema called from up ahead.

"Sorry."

He pedaled faster, catching up to the tandem bike he had created for Newton and Anathema. Dog ran alongside them easily in his new form.

"Huh, that's funny," Newton remarked.

"What?" Anathema asked worriedly.

"Dog's got a yin and yang symbol on his back."

"Yeah, kind of unimportant at the moment," she said. "Focus on the pedaling please."

Adam looked over and saw that Dog did indeed have a somewhat blurred mark on his back. In that moment, something clicked. Adam gasped aloud, the pieces of the puzzle that Agnes had foreseen suddenly falling into place.

An angel and a demon. Witches and witch-finders.

_Follow the archetypes._

_A child born of opposite sides._

_Remember._

_Inspire peace._

Adam suddenly screeched his bike to a halt.

"What are you doing?" Anathema called.

"Go without me!" Adam yelled, turning his bike around.

"What?"

"I know what the prophecies mean! I know what I have to do! Just go!"

...

Aziraphale and Crowley walked hand-in-hand toward the gathered armies. Beelzebub and Gabriel moved toward them, scowling. The four of them stopped as soon as they were a good six feet away from each other, standing in silence, waiting for someone to speak first.

"Come to congratulate us?" Crowley asked sarcastically.

"Oh, you're in BIG trouble now," Gabriel said, his voice more menacing than Aziraphale had ever heard before.

"On the contrary," Aziraphale answered, smiling thinly. "I believe you're the ones in trouble."

"I see three children, two tottering old fools who look close to death, and two Fallen angels with no powers," Beelzebub said dryly. "Forgive me if I'm not shaking."

"Oh, we do have powers," Aziraphale said. "You were completely unsuccessful in that realm."

"What, both of us?" Gabriel asked. "That's highly unlikely."

"You're bluffing," Beelzebub deadpanned.

"Am not," he said, raising his chin in defiance. "And I'll prove it to you. Now I don't want to hurt anyone, so behold…" He waved his arms mysteriously, and with a sleight of hand, produced Queenie from his sleeve. "A DUCK!"

Gabriel frowned. He did not look amused. Beelzebub's expression, as usual, didn't change.

"See?" Crowley said. "He can summon a duck out of thin air."

"And why don't you show us a "miracle," Crowley?" Beelzebub asked dryly.

"Oh, bit tired from last night. You know how it is. Well, actually I doubt it…"

"Take the duck," Aziraphale said, handing him Queenie and elbowing him sharply.

"Right. Sorry."

"See, the thing is," Gabriel said. "I'm pretty sure that duck already existed."

"No it didn't," Aziraphale said smoothly. "I just brought it into being."

"Then why is it nuzzling Crowley?"

"I made it especially for him. It came automatically liking him."

"I don't think so," Gabriel smiled thinly.

"Alright then, if you want a second miracle, how about a rose?" He pulled a rose from his other sleeve with extremely over-the-top hand gestures, also handing it to Crowley. "For you, dear."

"Aww, thanks." Crowley tucked the rose behind his ear.

Beelzebub sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "What the actual fuck, Crowley, you're a walking gay disaster."

"Thanks. I do try."

"Still think you're bluffing," Gabriel said.

"Definitely," Beelzebub added.

Zira decided to drop the magic act. "But since we have powers even when you tried to take them away, don't you wonder if that means it was part of the ineffable plan? And therefore, Gabriel, you're going against it by attacking?"

"The Almighty has refused to speak on the subject," Gabriel said through gritted teeth.

"Well we all try to do our best," Crowley said sympathetically.

"But I'd want to go against God's plans anyway," Beelzebub said, looking slightly confused. "Which currently means getting the second antichrist. So move, NOW."

"But what if you're doing exactly what she wants by trying to stop us?" Zira babbled. "Therefore, you shouldn't attack."

"What side are you even on?" Gabriel asked.

Zira grabbed Crowley's hand firmly. "Our side."

"Look," Crowley jumped in. "Can't you just let her grow up and live a normal life? Can't we live a normal life for a little bit?"

"Mmm, nope," Gabriel said matter-of-factly. "Her life was destined to never be normal. And you don't deserve it anyway."

Beelzebub took a step forward. "I've had enough of this."

"WAIT!" Crowley yelled. He held Queenie out toward them threateningly. "I should warn you that this is no ordinary duck."

He threw Queenie into the air, fully expecting her to start quacking and startle the two commanders. Instead, she simply flew in a small circle and landed on Crowley's head. Aziraphale groaned hopelessly.

"You've disappointed me," Crowley growled.

In the distance, a commotion broke out between the two armies. Angels and demons alike were getting restless. Gabriel and Beelzebub shared a look, knowing they wouldn't be able to hold them back much longer.

"It's time to end this, Aziraphale," Gabriel said, marching forward and drawing his sword. "Give us the antichrist."

"Her name is Debbie," Aziraphale shot back even as he and Crowley started walking backward.

"I don't care what her fucking name is, she's an antichrist and she needs to be raised in a proper environment."

"If you don't care about her name then you shouldn't be considered the proper environment!" he yelled back, gaining more and more courage with every word. "And how do you even know what she's destined to live like? You didn't care about Warlock or Adam. You didn't care that we lost track of him. That seemed to be ok, but now you're suddenly involved?"

"Well since you messed him up the first time…"

"YOU told me it didn't matter! When I said I was trying to influence him for good you said it wouldn't make a difference and not to bother…"

Crowley glanced over his shoulder at the house, Gabriel and Aziraphale's argument fading as he tried to think of another way to distract them. If they got too close to the house, Gabriel might sense that Debbie was gone again, and chaos would break loose. He had to keep stalling.

"…you useless Angel…"

Crowley snapped back into focus faster than the speed of light, just in time to see Gabriel start swinging his sword.

"STOP!" he yelled, standing in front of Aziraphale protectively. Gabriel, evidently, had not expected this, and actually stopped.

"What now?" Beelzebub asked, rolling her eyes.

"Don't do this now," Crowley chattered nervously. "You don't have to wait a lifetime, just a few weeks."

"Give me ONE good reason," Gabriel demanded.

"Be-because…because…" Crowley faltered.

"So you can come up with a plan to defeat us?" Beelzebub asked.

"N-no, it's…it's so…so…so we can get married," he stuttered.

Beelzebub blinked. "What."

"What?" Gabriel asked.

"Wait, what?" Aziraphale choked behind him.

_Shit_, Crowley thought. _Shitshitshitshitshit. Alright, just go with it_. "Yes," he said, trying to sound confident.____

"CAN I BE MAID OF HONOR?!" Madame Tracy screamed behind them.

"For the last time," Gabriel spat. "We're not ending the world, just taking the antichrist!"

"Yes but she's our flower girl."

"She's a baby!"

"So? We're going to put her in a wagon."

"Er, Crowley…" Aziraphale began. Crowley grabbed his hand and squeezed it.

_Don't interupt_, he pleaded silently. _Please just go with it.___

_ __ _

"Choose another flower girl," Gabriel said, growing more and more frustrated with every second. "I don't care about your stupid wedding."

"Yes, but it's all been planned already," Crowley lied. "Two weeks. Tadfield. You can come if you'd like."

"You planned all that in one night?" Beelzebub asked, squinting suspiciously at them.

"Well, we thought, since we're human we might as well."

"Didn't you just have your big love confession or whatever it was that caused the aura?" Gabriel asked. "Bit rushed, isn't it?"

"Yes, but when you've been in love for 6,000 years…Er…" _Shit._

Aziraphale stepped ever so slightly forward and looked at him wide-eyed. They were still holding hands.

"Crowley…Six thousand?" he asked softly. "You said it was 1793…"

"Oh please," Beelzebub groaned. "We both know you've had a thing for Aziraphale since the beginning of time."

Something about that phrase didn't sound quite right to Crowley. Something tickled the back of his brain, like he should be remembering something but he couldn't. Unfortunately, he didn't have the clarity at the moment to sort it out, not with Zira staring at him like that.

"Wait," Gabriel said, turning to Beelzebub. "You knew about this and you didn't stop it?"

"Alright, in my defense, he said he was seducing an angel. Said so himself in 48."

"Sorry, 48 B.C.? Alexandria?" Zira asked.

"Ah…" Crowley couldn't get his brain to function properly.

"Well, what if Aziraphale was trying to save him?" Gabriel countered.

"First of all, demons can't be saved…"

"How do you know? It's never been tried before."

"Secondly," she continued, ignoring his interruption. "I did check up on that, and your Angel didn't even notice a thing. He definitely was not trying to save him."

Gabriel turned to look at Aziraphale in shock. "He flirted with you for 6,000 years and you didn't notice?"

"Well…I, ah…rather…" Zira stuttered.

"God, you really are stupid."

Crowley seemed to reboot almost instantly. "How dare you? I mean, you're kind of right, but will you just shut your stupid fucking mouth already?"

Aziraphale looked up at him in pure adoration. Crowley tried very hard not to look at him, knowing that if he did, all he'd be able to think about was kissing him. His brain would stop working again, he wouldn't be able to resist the urge, and Gabriel and Beelzebub would strike and the battle would be over before it began. No, he definitely could not look at Zira right now. It was too dangerous.

"Still," Gabriel continued, unfazed. "Wasn't there a rule about when Angels and Demons fraternized we had to tell each other or something? Deal with the traitors and all that to prevent riots?"

"I'm a rule-breaker by nature," Beelzebub said. "I ignored it. Plus, it was something to watch besides Romeo and Juliet. Although, granted, anything's better than that after the first forty times."

"Yeah, try Sound of Music, bitch."

"That's only been around for 50 years. Romeo and Juliet is Shakespeare," she hissed. "Do you know how many renditions and remakes we've had to watch? Do you know how many live show productions we've had to put on? I've had to play Romeo twice, and Maria in West Side Story. At least that one had some variation."

"Alright, listen," Aziraphale said, trying to regain control of the situation since Crowley seemed out of commission. "How about we come to some sort of arrangement. You let Debbie grow up a nice and normal life. After all, you can't really do anything with her at the moment anyway. In the meantime, go fight amongst yourselves to see who gets custody over her, but leave the rest of us out of it."

"Yeah, that didn't work out so well with the first antichrist, did it?" Beelzebub said dryly.

Before he could respond, Michael appeared next to Gabriel.

"The troops are getting restless," she said, clearly agitated herself at the long wait. "We either need to finish negations or start the war. Have you gotten anywhere with this?"

"Just go get them ready," Gabriel said.

"You really don't want to push it," Crowley said, the urgency of the situation grounding him. "What if we're even more powerful than before?"

"Again, highly unlikely," Gabriel said, raising his sword again.

With another sleight of hand, both Crowley and Aziraphale produced their flaming swords.

"We wouldn't have been able to do that if we were powerless," Aziraphale said, trying to be threatening.

"You need to get better at your magic tricks," Gabriel seethed.

Crowley surged forward, blue flames flashing as his sword met Gabriel's with pure fury. All inhibitions were unleashed and he went full on feral, pushing Gabriel back with a surprising ferocity. Even Gabriel was surprised at the fiery anger pulsing from Crowley's every blow.

"What did I ever do to you?" he asked, eyes wide.

"It's not what you did to me," Crowley growled as their swords grated together.

Aziraphale was quickly engaged in a duel with Beelzebub, and chaos finally descended among the two armies. Angels and Demons rushed toward the house, racing to get the second antichrist before anyone else had the chance. They started attacking each other along the way, effectively creating a traffic jam which Shadwell was very appreciative of, since he didn't want to deal with 10 thousand Angels and Demons at once. Still, quite a few of them managed to get through the war zone unscathed, and he raised his gun threateningly.

"Get ready, lads!" Shadwell yelled.

Brian, Wensleydale, and Pepper held to their posts, resisting the urge to run out heroically into the fray. They had been rather disappointed at the lack of a real fight last time, and were more than ready to disintegrate some demons. Pepper, stationed in a young maple near the garden, was the first to get a solid hit.

"I got one!" she called excitedly into her walkie talkie.

"I got two with one shot," Brian yelled back a minute later. He had been hidden in the bushes near the front door.

"If you stop talking and focus maybe you can get more than that," Wensleydale retorted.

"And you have how many?" Pepper asked, burning another demon as it tried to pass by.

"Five," Wensleydale answered simply.

"This is not a competition!" Tracy yelled at them, targeting angels with her gun. "This is war!"

"Who says it can't be both?" Pepper snorted. "That's six for me."

"Keep the chatter down, will ya?" Shadwell said.

...

Michael had quietly managed to slip through the defenses and into the house. The sounds of the battle dimmed, contrasting to the eerie silence indoors. It was suspiciously silent, she realized with a growing sense of dread. She looked around worriedly. There were, of course, all manner of booby traps in the living room and leading upstairs, but she avoided them all easily. Besides, it seemed they were mostly meant for demons, so she left them alone. The nursery door had been jammed closed, but with a quick miracle she had it open. As she had suspected, it was empty. Michael closed her eyes, reaching out to see if they were hiding the baby in another part of the house. But there were no babies for miles. The first antichrist, however, was currently coming up the stairs. Instinctively, Michael unsheathed her sword and turned to face him.

"Stop!" Adam gasped, holding up a hand. Michael froze, unable to move anything but her eyes. "I don't want to hurt you."

"I don't want to hurt you either," she managed through gritted teeth. "But I don't have a choice. My orders are clear."

"You'd really kill me?" he asked quietly, catching his breath.

"Of course. You're the antichrist."

"I didn't mean to do anything bad, I just didn't know what was happening. And ever since then I've only ever used my powers for good. Shouldn't that tell you something?"

Michael felt herself relax, released from Adam's power. Her feet were still stuck in the same place, but she could move again. Slowly, she lowered her sword. Adam moved to the window and looked out over the battlefield.

"This isn't how it's supposed to be," he sighed.

"No," Michael said sadly. Truth be told, she wasn't sure anymore what it was supposed to be like. But this was decidedly not it. "It's not."

"Do you remember life in heaven before the Fall?" Adam asked, opening the window.

She frowned slightly, wondering at such a strange question. "No."

"That's what I thought." The branches of a nearby tree began growing towards them, twisting into a ladder of sorts that led to the roof.

"Just a moment, where do you think you're going?" Michael asked, trying to get her feet to move again.

"Don't worry," he said, climbing onto the branches. "I'm going to fix it. Just give me five minutes."

Michael felt her feet snap free of his spell, and she rushed to the window. "What are you doing?" she demanded.

"You'll see. I won't hurt anyone, I promise. But you might not want to be inside the house when it happens."

Michael eyed him suspiciously. Letting him go unharmed would be a direct violation of her orders, which were to kill him on-sight. But there was something in his innocent shining eyes that told her to trust him.

"Alright," she finally sighed.

Adam smiled and clambered up onto the roof. Looking down at their little party, he could see Them were nearly overwhelmed with the sheer number of demons who had broken through and had stopped keeping track of their shots. Shadwell's gun seemed to be malfunctioning, and Tracy handed him a regular gun instead. Their bullets didn't seem to do anything. Crowley and Aziraphale fought back to back, holding their own but looking extremely tired already. Adam knew it would just take one tiny slip up and they'd both be dead. He looked up at the sky, wondering if God Herself was watching the battle.

"I might need Your help here," he said quietly. "If this is what you want me to do."

An indescribable sense of calm overcame him, while simultaneously feeling a burst of strength and energy. Well, he supposed that was the answer. Adam closed his eyes and took a deep breath, mentally telling his voice to amplify like he was using a megaphone. He opened his eyes and saw Michael standing below him, watching curiously. There was no turning back now.

"EVERYBODY FREEZE!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I get any fanart out of this work SOMEBODY DRAW CROWLEY WITH THE DUCK ON HIS HEAD PLEASE!!!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya'll I'm so sad, I accidentally deleted one of my chapters during the transfer!! Luckily I had an early draft saved elsewhere on my computer so I have bits and pieces, but it might take awhile to piece it back together again. It's always hard to re-write something you've already done. 
> 
> But in the meantime, please enjoy some more angst.

Aziraphale’s sword was inches from Beelzebub’s throat, and yet he couldn’t move it. She looked at him wide-eyed and somewhat relieved, since she had lost her own sword only moments earlier. Inwardly cursing, Aziraphale wondered what Adam was doing, and why it couldn’t have waited two more seconds.

“Stop fighting and listen to me for a minute,” Adam said, his voice reverberating around them. “Think back to before the Fall, when you were all angels on the same side. Who were you friends with?” 

_We told you we don’t remember…he started to think, frustrated._

But suddenly the scene before him changed. Beelzebub disappeared and instead Aziraphale found himself back in the Garden of Eden, reliving long forgotten memories. It was night, and he saw his younger self sitting peacefully under a willow tree, hands trailing gently in a small brook. He was looking up at the stars, seemingly waiting for something. A few seconds later there was a flash of light.

“Sorry I’m late, Archangel meeting ran long.” 

Zira gasped in surprise. It was Crowley. Crowley with shining white wings and deep brown eyes. They had known each other after all. 

Young Aziraphale looked up at him and smiled. “Not a problem, my dear. I was just looking at the stars. You’ve made some new ones today, haven’t you?” 

“That’s what I was going to show you,” Crowley said, sitting beside him. “There’s a whole cluster up there, the Seven Sisters I call them.” 

“They’re beautiful.” 

“But that’s not even the best part,” he continued. “Look up there, that really bright one.” 

“That one?” Aziraphale asked, pointing. 

“Not quite.” Crowley gently moved his arm a few inches to the right. “That one.” 

“Oh! Yes, I see it now. That one’s new too?” 

“Yes. That’s Alpha Centauri.” The name sent shivers down Zira’s spine. “Want to see it up close?” 

“What, now?” 

“Why not?” 

Crowley stood and offered a hand to Aziraphale, who took it eagerly. They shot into the sky, leaving the earth behind in seconds as their powerful wings took them nearly at the speed of light. The freedom of open space was exhilarating, allowing them to stretch their wings to full capacity. 

“Race you there,” Aziraphale teased. 

“Yeah, right, you don’t even know how to get there,” Crowley laughed, flying on his back and looking up at him fondly. 

“You’re just saying that ‘cause you know I’d win!” Aziraphale said, shooting forward.

“Hey!” Crowley turned over and caught up to him easily. “You can’t beat an archangel, principality.” 

“Says who?”

They raced and looped through the nebulae, leaving a trail of stardust in their wake. Finally, they nearly crash-landed on a moon, panting and out of breath from the chase. Crowley sat down in a small crater, Aziraphale collapsing beside him.

“Now that was fun,” he gasped, leaning into Crowley’s shoulder and laughing. “Is this it, then?” he asked, looking up at the two stars orbiting each other.

“Alpha Centauri,” Crowley nodded. “It looks like one star from earth, but it’s actually two stars orbiting so close that they look like one.” 

“That’ll take years for the humans to figure out.” 

“Well, I didn’t make it for the humans,” Crowley smiled, intertwining his hand with Aziraphale’s.

“Oh really?” he smirked back. 

“I thought this would be a good meeting place outside of heaven and earth,” Crowley continued, sobering up a little. 

Aziraphale looked down worriedly. “In case something goes wrong.” 

“Exactly.” 

The two of them sat in silence for awhile. Crowley squeezed Aziraphale’s hand comfortingly, although he looked equally concerned.

“Would you do me a favor?” Aziraphale asked finally. 

“Anything for you, my angel.” 

There was another moments hesitation. “Don’t go tomorrow.” 

Crowley sighed. “You know I have to.” 

“I know you want to ask questions, just not with them,” he pleaded.

“How else is the Almighty going to hear me?” Crowley asked, exasperated. “I’ve tried going alone and it hasn’t worked. I need to go with a crowd.”

“But their questions are different than yours. What they’re doing…Lucifer and the others, it seems dangerous. What if they cross the line and go too far? What will She do with them? With you? Is all of this worth it?” 

“For humanity it is,” Crowley said emphatically. “I’m not even arguing against Her Great Plan, I just want to know if there’s another way to get to the end goal without causing all that suffering. I’ve seen glimpses of the future, Zira, it’s not pretty.” 

“But if they lock you away for a thousand years you won’t be able to help them. If you don’t ask questions and just go along with it, you might be able to help more.” 

“I might, but it’s not for certain. I just…I need to as Her. Surely She’ll see that I’m not rebelling.”

“And what if She doesn’t?” Aziraphale asked, voice close to breaking. 

“Then I might have my privileges revoked,” he sighed. “No more stars, no more earth. A thousand years locked in a boring white cell. But I know the risks.” He paused painfully. “Which is why you’re not coming with me.” 

“What?!? No, I said I would…”

“I know, I know.” He looked at Aziraphale sadly. “But there’s no point in you getting swept up in the wrong crowd, if something does happen.” 

“But I want to be there with you,” Aziraphale said earnestly, taking both Crowley’s hands in his own. “I do support your decision, Raphael.” 

Watching silently, Zira felt another jolt hit him. Raphael. It made sense. He had always been drawn to that name, a weird obsession to meet every famous Raphael in history. He had read about the Fallen Archangel many times in his ancient manuscripts and prophecies, and he had wondered which one of the twisted demons he had ended up. But Crowley…Crowley who never liked killing, Crowley who scorned Heaven for killing kids in the Great Flood, Crowley who took up the position as Warlock’s nanny and had genuinely cared for him…of course he had been Raphael. He should have known. 

“I know you do,” Raphael-Crowley continued. “But you don’t have to be there physically to show me. I already know.” 

Around them, golden drops of starlets began to fall. Aziraphale raised his wings above their heads protectively, looking slightly concerned. Crowley shook his head lightly and smiled. 

“They won’t hurt us,” he said, standing. “Come on, this is my favorite part.” 

He pulled Aziraphale to his feet, and with one arm wrapped around his waist, started to dance. Aziraphale buried his face in Crowley’s shoulder, unable to bear it. Both already looked heartbroken, afraid of what was coming. How could either of them have known? Gently, Crowley pressed his forehead against Aziraphale’s.

“I’ll be fine, Zira. I promise.” 

“If you aren’t I’ll…I’ll…” 

“What are you going to do to me?” Crowley smiled. 

A bit flustered and not knowing how to answer, Aziraphale pulled him in for a kiss. Zira felt a deep pain in his chest, realizing that Beelzebub had been right. Crowley really had loved him since the beginning of time. So had he. 

...

Adam's arms shook as the weight of the memories came crashing down. Around them, Angels and Demons cried out in pain. It really was too much for an almost twelve-year-old boy to bear on his own. He needed help. 

Aziraphale was screaming.

Michael's memory broke and she looked up instinctively at Adam. He looked at her silently, and she flew up to his side. There was a thud from the other side of the roof. Dagon. Her eyes met Michael's with the sorrow of best friends separated for an eternity. 

"Ariel," Michael said gently, nodding in respect. 

"Catch up later," Dagon said roughly, unsure how to react with the new memories and emotions. "Help me." 

They wrapped their arms around Adam, channeling their energy to support him. 

"You're doing good, kid," Dagon said. "Keep going." 

...

“Who did you lose?” Adam’s voice interrupted the memory. 

The stars melted away, taking Zira into Heaven. He watched himself pacing anxiously outside the court, which was very similar to the future Roman Colosseums, only this was meant for millions of Angels. Inside, voices yelled angrily at Metatron for God Herself to make an appearance. Other Angels were flooding in, trying to see what was going on. Aziraphale, unable to wait any longer, joined them as a spectator. The courtyard was filled with angry Angels, more than he had realized. The whole base was packed, barely any room to move at all, and more hovered above them. The stands were filled with others, most of them asking around trying to figure out what was happening. Others were calling out to their friends, begging them to come back before it was too late. A few even had their swords at the ready, glaring disapprovingly at the mob.

Aziraphale climbed higher into the stands, trying to catch a glimpse of Raphael. He finally saw him, stuck in the very middle. He was a little overwhelmed, realizing that things had taken a turn for the worse. This was not a good plan. He raised his eyes and caught sight of Aziraphale, who looked desperately worriedly. Immediately, he began trying to get out, which was rather difficult when you had a bunch of almost-Demons on the verge of a riot. Aziraphale started to descend when a hand fell heavily on his shoulder. 

“I wouldn’t go down there if I were you,” Gabriel said, trying to keep his own voice from shaking.

“Raphael’s down there…” Aziraphale started to protest. 

“Then he has chosen the wrong path. There’s nothing more to be done.” 

“He’s not with the others, I have to do something!” 

“It’s too late,” he choked. 

Gabriel’s violet eyes were pinned to the courtyard, unmoving. Aziraphale followed his gaze and saw Beelzebub, though she was hardly recognizable as the demon Zira knew and hated. Her features were softer and more feminine, her hair was pinned up delicately in a crown shape. She had much more emotion, too, sleeves rolled and up and yelling like a spitfire. 

“That’s Gloria,” Aziraphale said. “Gabriel, Gloria’s down there!” 

“Don’t you think I know that?” Gabriel spat angrily. “It doesn’t matter. I’ve told you, it’s too late!” 

A rising sense of panic filled Aziraphale. “What do you mean?” he asked, voice trembling. Gabriel didn’t answer. “What is She going to do?”

Gabriel looked away as the doors behind Metatron slid open and God stepped out onto the platform. She did not look pleased. Aziraphale broke away from Gabriel’s grip and ran down the steps toward the courtyard, pushing the other Angels out of the way. It was far too crowded to use his wings and fly. Crowley, also sensing the righteous anger, started aggressively shoving people out of the way as he raced toward the walls of the stadium. He was only a few yards away when he was suddenly jerked backwards by Hastur and Ligur. 

“Going so soon?” Hastur asked. 

“Coward,” Ligur spat. “You can’t back out now, not when the Almighty’s finally here!” 

“I’m not backing out, I didn’t even come with you,” Crowley protested. “I didn’t realize this was a group effort!” 

Everything happened in an instant, but Adam slowed the memory down so they could all see. At the front, Lucifer had just finished an angry rant claiming he could be a better God and what did the Almighty have to say about that? She didn’t reply, merely sweeping her arm across the courtyard while a fire seemed to burn in her normally calm eyes. In his hurry, Aziraphale tripped into Michael, sending both of them sprawling to the ground. The bottom of the courtyard fell out into nothingness, a cavern that fell down into a sulphur pit. The rebellious Angels began to Fall, their wings catching on fire, unable to fly away. Hastur and Ligure let go of Crowley in surprise, screaming from the shock and the pain. Aziraphale scrambled to his feet, his eyes meeting Crowley’s as he began to fall. Wings unfurled, Aziraphale flew towards him, arms outstretched to catch him. Crowley reached out as the wind sucked him backwards. He tried to fly but the fire had rendered them useless. An invisible barrier blocked Aziraphale from flying in, and he pounded his fists against it desperately. Their eyes locked. Crowley grasped frantically at the air, trying to pull himself back up. He had been so close to escaping. 

“I’m sorry, Zira,” he whispered. 

In shock, Aziraphale watched as, one-by-one, every feather on Crowley’s wings burned to black. Present-day Zira didn’t want to watch, the pain in Crowley’s eyes too much to bear, but he couldn’t tear himself away either. And then, the unthinkable. The courtyard reappeared, blocking his view. Gasping, Aziraphale looked around the colosseum as Angels cried and screamed for their friends. God had already retreated back to her chambers, as had Metatron. 

“Watch what happens next,” Adam said. “On both sides. This one you all get to see.” 

“Gabriel!” Aziraphale called, running up the stairs. The archangel was where he had left him, only now he was sitting, hands over his face. He was the picture of misery. “Gabriel, you have to talk to Her! You have to tell her there’s been a mistake. Raphael wasn’t…” 

“Gabriel, we have to do something,” Michael interrupted. “We have to calm them down or else we’ll have a second mutiny on our hands. There’s talk of going to rescue friends…this is dangerous!”

Gabriel lifted his head. “What do you want me to do?” he asked hopelessly. 

“Pull yourself together and help me,” Michael implored. 

Gabriel stood. “QUIET!!” he roared, voice echoing through the columns. Immediately, the others looked to him for guidance. “Consider them dead,” he commanded, breathing heavily. “They’re gone and we can do nothing about it. We will not be sending a rescue party.” 

“But they’re our friends!” several protested. 

“Not anymore! They have gone against the Almighty, and if you try to rescue them, so do you. Stand down.” 

Uncertainty and hesitation rippled through the crowds. Gabriel brought out his sword and swung it against a column with a mighty clang. Zira had never seen him like this before.

“This cannot be allowed to happen again! These emotions are clouding your judgement.” 

“Gabriel…” Michael started, suddenly looking very worried. “What are you…?” 

Gabriel turned and glared at her. “Making sure this doesn’t happen again. No more emotions. No more memories.” 

He turned back to the crowds, eyes blazing. Then, with a wide sweep of his arm, the memories began vanishing. 

“NO!” Aziraphale screamed, falling to the ground. “You can’t do this! Raphael wasn’t with the others, don’t do this!” 

“I have to,” Gabriel groaned, sitting down and clutching his head in pain.

Michael cried out in sorrow. “What have you done? You’ll forget Gloria!”

“That’s…the…point,” Gabriel seethed. 

Aziraphale curled into a ball, desperately trying to remember Raphael, but the memories faded fast. Soon, all that was left were images of the riot, wings burning as the Demons fell. But that was all. Gabriel stood, a blank expression on his face. 

“Alright everyone, back to work. Meeting tomorrow at 9:00 SHARP!” 

He turned briskly and flew away, leaving Aziraphale wondering what had happened, and what was missing. 

...

Cries turned to screams of anguish as the trauma returned.

"Show them our side, too," Dagon said, tears streaming down her face. 

Aziraphale was still screaming.

...

The memory turned to Hell. Crowley fell hard, rolling on impact. Gasping in pain, he looked up at Lucifer, who was watching them all coldly. 

“No, no, no, no, NO!” Crowley yelled, looking up at the dark space above them. 

He shook his wings, extinguishing the fire. They didn’t look terribly damaged, only black as night. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” he yelled at Lucifer. 

“You didn’t have to follow me,” he retorted calmly. 

“I didn’t,” Crowley insisted. 

“You had questions about the Plan, yes?” 

“Yes, but…”

“She kicked you out, not me.” 

Crowley looked heavenward again, flexing his wings. They hurt like hell, but they felt like they could still fly. 

“It may not be too late,” he told himself, not realizing he’d said it aloud. 

“You’re not thinking of going to ask for…for forgiveness, are you?” Lucifer asked, voice dripping with venom. 

“I wasn’t rebelling!” Crowley yelled. “I shouldn’t be here!” 

An uncomfortable murmur moved through the crowd of newly Fallen Demons as others began to doubt their actions. 

“She has banished us, forever!” he roared. “Just for asking questions. Do you really want to go back to all of that? It’s tyranny!” 

Gloria looked up sadly. Her hair had fallen out of place, hanging loosely around her shoulders now. 

“They weren’t all bad,” she said quietly. 

“You loyalty should lie with me, now,” Lucifer snarled. “You should forget your friends from Above. They banished us here. They abandoned us.” 

Crowley felt physically ill, realizing what was about to happen. He had been prepared to be stripped of his status as archangel. He’d been ready to lose his privileges among the stars. He’d knew it would be a possibility to be banned from earth. He’d expected to be thrown in prison for a thousand years. All of that would have been worth it to ask for mercy on behalf of the humans. But this was different. He had not asked his question. He might have been able to reconcile his Fall within a few years. What he absolutely could not handle was losing Zira. 

Without a moment of hesitation, Crowley flew into the air, ignoring the pain in his wings as he raced toward Heaven. There was no time. Lucifer raised his hands in the air and snapped, twisting the Demon’s memories of Heaven and changing them to fit his needs. Crowley’s wings gave out, sending him spiraling back to the ground yet again. He screamed, a guttural, feral shriek, panicking as one-by-one his memories of Zira were erased from existence. 

He landed at Lucifer’s feet, breathing heavily in the dust as Lucifer gave out orders to the other Demons and assigned new names. Crowley didn’t listen. Something was wrong. He had been trying to remember something, but all that existed was an empty void. Aside from Falling, the only thing he remembered was Alpha Centuari. There was something important about that, but he couldn’t remember what it was. He felt hollow, like he was missing a part of himself. He stared at the ceiling of the cavern numbly. Finally, Lucifer knelt beside him. 

“What did you do?” Crowley whispered. 

“Nothing.” 

“You took something,” he cried. “What did you take from me?”

“I didn’t take anything. They did.” He jabbed a finger in the air, snarling. “They took everything away from us. Now, _Crawley_, do I have your full loyalty, or don’t I?” __

_ __ _

_ __ _

Crowley sat up slowly. “Yes.” 

“Good. Now get up the Garden and cause some trouble.” 

Nodding, Crowley transformed into a snake and slithered away. 

“This next one’s just for you two,” Adam whispered, though Zira heard him clearly. “You can thank me later.” 

They were back in Eden now. Aziraphale watched as Adam and Eve walked away in shame. Already their suffering was clear, and it broke his heart. The other Angels didn’t seem to care all that much, but he did. His sword glowed brightly in his hand, and he stared at for a minute, thinking. Surely there had to be another way, a way to help ease their pain without going against the Great Plan. Something deep inside him, a little voice at the back of his head, told him to help them. 

“Wait!” he yelled. 

Adam and Eve paused at the gate, looking back at him expectantly. Aziraphale ran towards them and shoved the sword in Adam’s hand.

“Here you go, flaming sword, don’t thank me,” he said rather quickly. He eyed the scorching desert outside the walls. “And don’t let the sun go down on you here.” 

Adam nodded and Eve looked at him gratefully. Aziraphale flew up to the top of the wall to watch them go. 

Crowley, meanwhile, was sulking in the Garden, not really wanting to descend back to Hell yet. There was a nice little juniper bush that he had wrapped himself around, still disguised as a snake. The flutter of Angel wings caught his attention, and he looked toward the Eastern Gate. There was something oddly familiar about the Angel. The void in his soul gnawed at him. Was that what—who, rather—he was missing? He knew he shouldn’t talk to Angels. He didn’t want to get into trouble his first week as a Demon, but curiosity got the better of him. He slithered out from the bush and scaled the wall easily, returning to his demon form next to the Angel, who didn’t look too surprised at his presence. 

“Well, that went down like a lead balloon,” he said, striking up conversation. 

The Angel chuckled nervously. “Sorry, what was that?” 

“I said, well that went down like a lead balloon,” Crowley repeated, slightly irritated. 

“Yes, yes it did rather.” Aziraphale kept watch over Adam and Eve. Talking to Demons was a dangerous business, but this one didn’t seem too bad. 

“Bit of an overreaction if you ask me.” Aziraphale glanced sideways at him, slightly offended. “First offense and everything.” Crowley sighed. “I can’t see what’s wrong about knowing the difference between good and evil anyway,” he said, honestly a bit confused and hoping for answers. 

Aziraphale looked equally confused. “Well, it must be bad…er…?” 

It was that awful feeling of being at a party and meeting an old acquaintance, and suddenly forgetting their name. Although they had only just met, Aziraphale felt like he ought to have known the Demon’s name already.

“Crawley,” Crowley supplied helpfully, ignoring the sudden warmth that flooded him. Nobody had really asked for his name yet. Lucifer had just given it to him. 

“Crawley,” the Angel repeated with a small smile. 

Aziraphale wasn’t quite sure why he smiled. Maybe just seeing the little bit of happiness it brought to the Demon… The way Gabriel had put it, all Demons were monsters, half-animals and beings that seeped of evil. This one didn’t. This one was different. His eyes, serpentine as they were, seemed almost kind, in a manner of speaking. So did his smile. Actually, now that Aziraphale properly looked at him, he was rather pleasant looking. Almost handsome. 

“Otherwise,” he continued abuptly, remembering he was in the middle of a conversation. “You wouldn’t have tempted them into it.” 

“Oh, they just said get up there and make some trouble,” Crowley said. He hadn’t really meant to make that much trouble, but the memories of the riot still burned in his mind. He had wanted to make Heaven pay, but not the humans. 

“Well obviously, you’re a Demon,” Aziraphale said sharply, looking out at the desert again. _He’s a demon. This is bad. You shouldn’t be doing this_. “It’s what you do,” he added solemnly, almost sadly. __

_ __ _

_ __ _

“Not really subtle of the Almighty, though,” Crowley continued. “Fruit tree in the middle of the Garden with a “Don’t touch” sign. I mean, why not put it on top of a high mountain? Or on the moon?” 

Aziraphale frowned slightly, giving a quick glance heavenward. The Demon had a point. 

“Makes you wonder what God’s really planning.” 

An inexplicable burst of panic shot through Aziraphale like a bolt a lightening. Memories of the Fall, burning wings and something wrong flashed through his mind. 

“Best not to speculate,” he said earnestly. “It’s all part of the Great Plan. It’s not for us to understand,” he said, remembering what Gabriel had said one morning before sending them out on assignment. 

The answers Gabriel had given at the meeting hadn’t really satisfied him though. All that talk about the Great Plan, which Gabriel seemed to know all about yet knew nothing at really…it didn’t seem right. Surely that wasn’t all that God was planning. 

“It’s ineffable,” he finished. 

“The Great Plan’s ineffable?” Crowley asked skeptically. 

“Exactly. It is beyond our understanding and incapable of being put into words.” 

Crowley ignored him, looking at him intensely. There was something about him he couldn’t quite put his finger on. They had fallen into conversation so naturally, and he hadn’t hardcore rejected any of Crowley’s thoughts. Maybe they had known each other in Heaven. There was a vague memory of flying through the stars with someone. Was this him? Aziraphale looked at him curiously and Crowley realized he was staring. 

“Didn’t you have a flaming sword?” he asked, trying to change the subject. 

“Uh…” Aziraphale looked out to the desert, where the sword was clearly visible. He wasn’t sure how anyone would react to him giving away the sword, let alone a Demon. 

“You did,” Crowley said, still looking at him. “It was flaming like anything. What happened to it?” 

“Uh…” 

“Lost it already, have you?” he teased. 

“I gave it away,” he muttered. 

“You what?” Crowley asked, eyes wide. 

“I gave it away!” Aziraphale cried, looking rather distressed. 

Crowley stared at him in pure adoration, completely smitten. _You helped them, even against the Plan. You’re different. I know you. I must know you. _

“There are vicious animals,” Aziraphale continued, trying to justify himself. “It’s going to be cold out there and she’s expecting already.”

Crowley didn’t listen. _Why does this feel so right? Why is it so easy to love you?_ He caught himself. No, that couldn’t be right. Demons couldn’t love. Neither could Angels. That was for humans, not them. __

_ __ _

_ __ _

“I do hope I didn’t do the wrong thing,” Aziraphale sighed. He looked so forlorn that Crowley came back to reality immediately.

“Oh, you’re an Angel. I don’t think you can do the wrong thing,” he said earnestly. 

“Oh,” Aziraphale sighed, immensely relieved. He had been wanting consolation, but he was sure it wouldn’t come from Heaven. “Oh, thank you. Oh thank you. It’s been bothering me.” 

They looked out over the desert again, where a lion had approached the humans.

“I’ve been worrying too,” Crowley confessed. “What if I did the right thing with the whole ‘eat the apple’ business. A demon can get into a lot of trouble for doing the right thing.” 

Lucifer hadn’t seemed too keen with him in the first place, what if he had already messed up? And if Heaven had thrown them into a burning pit of sulphur when they messed up as Angels, what would Lucifer do? Aziraphale also looked slightly concerned, and Crowley was surprised that it troubled him. He instinctively wanted to cheer him up. 

“It’d be funny if we both got it wrong, eh?” he said, smiling. “If I did the good thing and you did the bad one?” 

Aziraphale started to laugh with him, almost automatically. He was starting to like this Demon. Maybe they weren’t all bad. The words he had said suddenly registered, and he sobered up quickly. 

“No!” he cried, shocked. “It wouldn’t be funny at all.” 

“Well…” Crowley shrugged. Nothing would please this fussy Angel. 

Thunder rolled on the horizon, and raindrops began to fall. Aziraphale lifted his wing, just as he had done on Alpha Centuari, though neither remembered it. Crowley awkwardly shuffled underneath. He almost thanked him, then thought better of it. 

“What’s your name, Angel?” 

“Aziraphale.” 

“Aziraphale,” Crowley repeated. 

The sounds fell clumsily from lips, yet the name seemed so familiar. It sounded nice. The two of them stood on the wall, watching the first rain storm in history. For a moment, they forgot all about the Fall, all about the lost memories. Crowley forgot he was a Demon, and Aziraphale forgot that he probably shouldn’t be talking with the Enemy. In that instant, they were just two Angels again. The ache that had plagued them for the past few days subsided, and the void filled just a little bit.

...

The memory faded and they were back on the battlefield. Aziraphale gasped for air, nearly falling over as he abruptly remembered to breathe. Adam had unfrozen them, and he looked around for Crowley frantically. Crowley had dropped his sword and was staring at him, the pain in his eyes almost too great to look at. The second he realized he could move, he was running at Zira so quickly he almost knocked him over. His shaking arms wrapped around him hysterically as he cried into his neck, finally finally able to remember. Aziraphale held him tightly, knowing he was not going to let him for a very long time. 

“Where are they now?” Adam asked, raising his hands. 

All around them, Angels and Demons were lifted into the air, crying out in confusion and pain at the newly rediscovered memories. 

“Find them,” Adam commanded, spinning them around. 

In the whirlwind of chaos, somehow those who had been separated managed to find each other. Rather, they flew into each other. Michael nearly crashed into Dagon, who grabbed her shoulders and held tight. 

“What’s he doing?” Zira asked from the ground. 

“He’s using us as the blueprint,” Crowley gasped. “We’re the archetypes…the only ones to defy both sides and keep…something of a friendship.” 

“It’s always been more than that,” Zira said emphatically, pulling him close. “Even if I did deny it for 6,000 years.” 

“Really?” Crowley asked, voice breaking. 

“How much did you remember?” he asked, eyes filled with worry. 

“Just enough to torture me for 6,000 years,” Crowley whispered. 

“Did you remember Alpha Centuari?” 

“Only enough to want to go back. I didn’t know why it was important.” 

“Did you go back?” 

“No. I couldn’t go without you.” 

“Oh, my dear Crowley,” Aziraphale sighed, kissing him tenderly. 

Above them, the Angels and Demons continued to spin, most of them in twos or even threes. Beelzebub grabbed a stricken Gabriel, glaring at him. 

“Hold tight,” Adam commanded. “You know, I’ve done a lot of reading about wars in the last year. And it seems to me that wars wouldn’t be necessary if people just talked about their problems with each other. So…go talk.” 

He snapped his fingers, sending every pair to quiet parks and nearly empty cafes all over the world so they could talk in peace.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Re-writing a lost chapter that I'd already put so much work into is tough, especially when it involves romance scenes. Something you should know about me is while I love reading and imagining scenes with physical affection, it is incredibly difficult for me to actually write about it. No joke, I literally worked on the end of confession chapter for WEEKS, doing bits at a time. I blame my conservative Christian upbringing. But I managed it! It's not as good as the original one but I didn't want to torture myself any longer. So here you go!

Gabriel landed in a hard metal chair at an outdoor cafe. Beelzebub sat across the small round table, her arms crossed. 

“Damn that kid,” Gabriel cursed under his breath. He leaned his elbows heavily on the table, face in his hands.

“You took away all the emotions. All the memories,” Beelzebub said in a low, gravely tone. “Why?” 

“You know why,” Gabriel snapped, looking up at her. “You just saw it.” 

“I want to hear you say it,” she hissed. 

Sighing painfully, Gabriel leaned back in his chair and looked up at the antique buildings, completed by the picturesque spire of the Eiffel Tower. Of course. Paris. Damn that kid. 

“Gabriel…” she said, almost pleading. 

“Because…” He paused, trying to get the words out. “Because…I…I couldn’t…” 

He looked across at her eyes, so cold and hard compared to the Angel he had known and loved so long ago. He had seen them when they met for battle many times. But this was different now. He could see the barrier starting to crack. She was angry. And she was heartbroken. Gabriel took a deep breath. 

“I couldn’t cope with losing you…” he said thickly. “…Gloria.” 

The dam finally broke. Beelzebub laid her head on the table, crying for the first time in 6,000 years. Hesitantly, Gabriel put his hand over hers. Though she still didn’t look at him, her fingers carefully unfurled from her elbow and grasped his hand firmly. 

It was a start.  
………………………………………………….  
The air around the California house was not quite empty. There were still several hundred Demons and Angels without a friend. They exchanged bitter looks from their places frozen in the sky. Evidently, there were no memories strong enough to make them forget the rivalry. With a wave of his arm, Adam banished the Demons back to Hell, but the Angels were immovable no matter what he did. He leaped off the roof, landing safely beside Aziraphale and Crowley, arms still wrapped around each other tightly. Michael and Dagon had vanished with the others.

“They won’t go away,” he panted. 

“Don’t worry, laddie, we can take ‘em!” Shadwell yelled as he, Tracy, and Them ran up. 

The others looked at him critically. 

“There are still hundreds of Angels, dear,” Tracy said. 

“I suppose I can always keep them this way,” Adam sighed. He was drenched in sweat and looked on the verge of collapse. “For awhile at least.” 

“Absolutely not,” Tracy said firmly. 

“If you can hold them closer to the ground, we could get a car and run ‘em over like pins,” Shadwell suggested.

“Allow me,” a voice said behind them. 

A woman dressed in white walked through their ranks, much to everyone’s surprise. 

“Good Lord,” Tracy gasped. 

“Well that is what people usually say,” God smiled, then turned to the children. “You’ve done very well, all of you. Especially you, Adam Young.” 

“Thanks,” Adam said, slightly speechless. 

The Angels cheered, noticing Her appearance. She looked up at them calmly, almost thoughtfully. The cheers died in their throats. 

“If you couldn’t get along with anyone in Heaven,” She yelled up at them, “then maybe you can make some friends in Hell.”

With a powerful wave of Her arm, the Angels fell straight through the earth, wings aflame. Satisfied, she turned to face the awestruck little army. 

“You can relax, I’m not striking anyone else down today.” She looked at Crowley and Aziraphale. “Congratulations, you two. But I must say that you’re complete idiots.” 

“Sorry?” Zira asked, confused. 

“Six THOUSAND years. And not a word out of either of you.” 

“Oh, don’t tell me you had a bet, too,” Crowley groaned. 

“Oh I don’t bet,” She said firmly. “That wouldn’t really be fair of me since I’m all-knowing.” 

“And we’re idiots because…?” Crowley asked cautiously. 

“Because you still didn’t figure it out. I did protect your memories,” She nodded at Crowley, “and your emotions,” pointing at Aziraphale, “after all.” 

“And we couldn’t have kept both?” Crowley demanded. 

“You tried to set them up?” Tracy asked, ignoring him. 

“Obviously.” 

“This…this wouldn’t be part of the Ineffable Plan, would it?” Aziraphale asked, slightly dazed.

“If I told you, then it wouldn’t be Ineffable, now would it?” 

“I have a question,” Pepper spoke up, the first of the Them to recover from meeting God face to face. 

“People usually do,” She smiled fondly. 

“Why do you like Sound of Music so much?” 

The others looked at her quizzically, evidently not the question they thought she’d ask. 

“You’ve never seen it, have you?” God asked, although She knew the answer. “And you fell asleep by Confidence in Me,” She added, looking at Aziraphale, who looked down sheepishly. “I would highly recommend a movie night. It’s not just a musical, you know. There’s quite a lot of commentary on religion that I’d think you’d appreciate once you get to it. There’s a very good reason I had my Angels watch it…unfortunately they never got the message. I suppose that’s my fault really for casting St. Julie. She does pull you into the story.” 

“Saint?” Tracy asked. 

“Well, not yet from your point of view.” 

“So, is that it then? Did Adam just stop everything for good?” Wensleydale asked, not at all caring about the Sound of Music and musicals and the fact that Julie Andrews would one day become a saint. 

“Oh, heavens no. This is just one phase.” 

“How many phases are there?” Brian asked. 

“What did I just say about ineffability?” God sighed. “If I explain it, then it defeats the purpose of being ineffable.” 

“If I might interrupt while I have the chance,” Crowley began, “But is there any chance we can have our wings back?” 

The Almighty looked the two of them over with a bemused smile. Then, simply, “No.” 

Before anyone else could respond or think of more questions, She snapped her fingers and disappeared just as quickly as She had come. 

The others looked at each other in confusion. 

“Now what?” Brian asked. 

“Tea,” Tracy said firmly, taking charge once again. “And maybe some biscuits if you can find any. Be a dear and help the children, please,” she added to Shadwell. 

“Got any scotch?” Shadwell asked Crowley. 

“Top left cabinet,” Crowley said blandly. 

“You two, stay here,” Tracy said, stopping Aziraphale and Crowley. 

Adam also stayed, although he did sit down and lean against the house. Tracy gave him a mothering look to go inside, but he shook his head firmly. She decided it was best not to argue with a tired antichrist, and turned to Aziraphale worriedly.

“What’s going on?” Aziraphale asked, slightly bewildered.  
“Are you alright?” she asked gently. 

“Why?”

“You were screaming,” Crowley said. 

“Oh.” 

“You could hear him?” Adam asked. “I made it so that everyone would only hear the memories, not what was going on outside.” 

“I always hear him.”  
“Oh,” Aziraphale said again. 

“Right,” Tracy said. “To bed, the lot of you.” 

“We just got up,” Crowley said. “And we should move back…”

“Not another word. First of all, you didn’t exactly get much rest last night, did you? And second, you just relieved who knows what kind of trauma. Third, we can do the moving for you. What needs to go?” 

“The books,” Crowley said. “And the prophecies.” 

“Grammaphone and magic tricks,” Adam added.

“The plants,” Aziraphale said distractedly. 

“Oh and everything in the nursery,” Crowley finished.

“We’ll take care of everything,” Tracy promised. 

She helped Adam to his feet and started leading them upstairs. His cot was moved into Crowley’s room so the nursery could be packed up, and he was asleep instantly. It took longer for Aziraphale, the adrenaline still flooding through him. Every time he had nearly drifted off his body would jerk awake again, and he felt like he was drowning. Crowley had no problems staying awake, pulling Zira closer with every jerk. He listened as his angel’s breathing, slowly, slowly relaxed and he fell asleep. Even after he was certain Zira was actually asleep to stay, Crowley resisted awhile longer, just holding him. 

…

They woke up nearly 16 hours later, when Anathema finally came back to check on them. She made them a rather hearty American breakfast of biscuits and gravy, which they all devoured eagerly. 

“I take it the others caught you up then?” Adam asked. 

“Mostly,” she smiled. “Though I’m not sure I understand all of it.” 

“Neither do we,” Aziraphale shrugged. 

“How’s Debbie?” Crowley asked. 

“She’s fine. She’s getting some nice bonding time with dad.” 

Crowley nodded and looked down at his food silently. Adam studied him for a minute. 

“I suppose you’ll move back to London now…” 

Crowley looked up, a little startled. “Well…I suppose so. There’s…there’s not really a need to stay now, is there? I mean, with the war averted again and all.” 

He instinctively looked to where the bassinet had been. 

“You know,” Anathema said slowly, “one of our neighbors is moving. Nobody else has bought the house yet.” 

Aziraphale frowned. “Are you suggesting we move to Tadfield?” 

“Yes,” she said simply. 

Crowley looked hopefully towards Aziraphale. 

“But the bookshop…” he said feebly. 

“Nobody’s bought any of your books in years ‘cause you won’t let ‘em,” Crowley said quickly. 

“No bookshop in Tadfield,” Adam added. “You could start one.” 

“Besides, it’d be good for Debbie to grow up near her godfathers.” 

The pair looked up at Anathema in shock. 

“You mean it?” Crowley asked eagerly. 

“You did take good care of her for six weeks,” she smiled. “I don’t think it would be fair for you to suddenly move away.” 

“Well when you put it that way,” Aziraphale smiled. 

…

Aziraphale was, by nature, quite the elegant and well-spoken Principality 9 times out of 10. This was the one time where he was not, although perhaps that could be forgiven. It was not every day that one ran into an archangel, especially one has strikingly beautiful as Raphael. He had literally run into him, arms full of paperwork and mind more focused on his upcoming new assignment at Eden than where he was actually going. Papers flew in all directions, and when Aziraphale was able to bring his mind back to reality, he promptly lost it again when he realized that it was Raphael staring back at him. He’d seen him from a distance of course, admiring him in secret but never had any courage to actually talk to him. The other archangels he’d had the unfortunate meetings with (namely Gabriel, though Michael wasn’t half bad on a good day), so he had assumed Raphael would be the same. 

“S-sorry, I’m so sorry,” he stammered, blindly trying to catch papers out of the air. “I should have been more careful, I know, I know, I promise I’ll watch out next time…”  
“Not at all,” Raphael said smoothly, stooping to help gather papers from the floor. 

Aziraphale blinked, staring in shock. Not only was the archangel not upset, but actually helping him clean up. 

“I don’t believe we’ve met before,” he continued. “What’s your name?”  
“Aziraphale,” he said numbly, still staring.

It was a nice name, Raphael thought. He rarely got to talk to other angels outside of his rank, and he’d been looking for an excuse to meet this certain principality for awhile now. This one was different from the others. He was awkward, but in an adorable way, like the baby animals that had started arriving on earth. And he was happier too, so much so that he sometimes seemed brighter than those around him, although for some reason most of the other angels thought that was annoying. Not to him, though. 

“Raphael,” he said, flashing a grin so dazzling Aziraphale’s wings rippled. “Here’s your paperwork, sorry about that.” 

“Oh no, it’s my fault,” Aziraphale sighed, looking down at the extremely disorganized and slightly crumpled files. “I’m afraid I’ve rather made a mess of things again. I’ll have to re-sort all of it before I can turn it in.” 

“What’s it for?” Raphael asked, curious. 

“I’ve been cataloguing stars.” 

“Really?” 

“It’s not as interesting as it sounds. Well, to you maybe, but you’ve actually been there, you’ve made them. For me it’s quite boring…sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you,” he said hurriedly, ashamed he hadn’t kept his usual control over his tongue. 

“You mean you’ve never flown out to see them?” Raphael asked, frowning slightly as he thought. 

“No,” Aziraphale said, shaking his head. “Gab—I mean, paperwork keeps me too busy.” 

“Oh that one’s my fault,” he grinned shamelessly. “I keep adding on. Don’t know how to stop, really.” 

“Well they are our jobs, I shouldn’t be complaining,” Aziraphale added suddenly, realizing Gabriel was walking towards them. 

“Tell you what,” Raphael said, looking him over. “Why don’t you meet me at the Northern Citadel tonight, after you get all that cleared up. I can show you the stars for real.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, why not?” 

“Well…” 

“What did you do this time?” Gabriel demanded, walking in on the conversation. He looked down at the paperwork in disdain. “How many times, Aziraphale, get your head out of the clouds and watch where you’re going! I expect that to be neatly organized and on my desk by the time our meeting has finished.” 

“Yessir,” Aziraphale mumbled, head down. 

“Actually it was my fault,” Raphael said almost defiantly. 

Gabriel looked at him like he’d said the world was flat. “What?” 

“Yeah, new constellation idea. I wasn’t paying attention. Must have stopped suddenly to look up.” 

“Hmm,” Gabriel said, not sounding too convinced. “Alright, you can have until morning to get them organized. Now, Raphael, Gloria sent me to tell you to make sure you come to the meeting this time instead of getting lost in deep space.” 

“I know, I know,” Raphael sighed. “That was one time.” 

“Twice, actually.” 

“Genuinely forgot.” 

“Mm, I’m sure. I know how much you love our meetings.” 

“I will be there in a minute, I promise. You don’t have to walk me there.” 

He stared pointedly. Gabriel shrugged and left them alone. Raphael turned back to Aziraphale apologetically. 

“Sorry about him, he can be a real jerk sometimes.” 

Not for the first time and definitely not for the last, Aziraphale was staring. “Did you just lie to him?” 

“No. I actually was thinking about a new constellation, so it very well could have happened that way for all he knows.” 

“Did it?” 

“Does it matter?” he smiled softly. “Now that I’ve gotten you a little extra time to re-file, Northern Citadel? I never did get an answer.” 

“Ah, yes, yes I’ll be there,” Aziraphale stammered, smiling happily. 

There it was again, that brightness that radiated from his very essence. Raphael was drawn to it inexplicably, and it was contagious. 

“Looking forward to it,” he said warmly. 

Aziraphale had never been so motivated to finish paperwork, and it was neatly organized and resting on Gabriel’s desk before the archangel meeting was over. Raphael noticed and they decided to leave early, neither wanting to wait that long. They flew through the stars, Raphael showing him all the planets and moons, and Aziraphale asking questions about the galaxies and constellations. 

“It’s a lovely idea,” he said. “But…” Aziraphale paused, not sure how to ask. Raphael had been very understanding all evening, patiently answer his questions, but he didn’t want to offend him either. 

“But what?” 

“I don’t see how you would connect Alnitak, Alnilam, and Bellatrix together. I mean, there are other stars that are closer, aren’t there?” 

He waited for the disappointed sigh and the patronizing comment which he so often received from Gabriel. But Raphael just cocked his head slightly and smiled. Nobody had actually taken this much interest in his work, not even the other archangels. 

“You haven’t been to earth yet, have you?” Aziraphale shook his head, and Crowley held out his hand. “Come on then, I’ll show you what it looks like from there.”

Shyly, Aziraphale took his hand, and with a quick miracle they were on earth atop a beautiful mountain. He gasped as Raphael pointed skyward at the billions and billions of tiny lines shining down on them. Up close they had been magnificent and powerful, but viewed altogether formed a different picture entirely, one that Aziraphale considered even more beautiful. 

“Oh,” he breathed, looking at the three sisters again and mentally tracing the constellation of Orion Raphael had shown him. “Oh, I see it now. Where’s the other one you showed me, the one they’ll call Cassiopia?” 

“Over there,” he said softly, pointing with his free hand. 

“They do look like they connect from this angle. Raphael, this is…” 

Aziraphale turned to face him, and simultaneously realized that they were still holding hands and that Raphael was smiling and staring at him the way he had been staring at the stars. Angels could feel love, of course, but there had only ever been a handful of occurrences so far. Naturally, they could feel it emanating from God Herself constantly, growing stronger the closer you got to Her until it became overwhelming and you couldn’t stand. Only a few weeks ago all the Angels had felt a sudden new wave when Adam had met Eve for the first time, which felt remarkably different than God’s Love. And then there were the relationships that had slowly been forming among the Angels. Michael and Ariel’s love went deeper than the normal friendships among colleagues, but it was different from the romantic feel you got from being around Gabriel and Gloria for too long. Although frankly, that one confused Aziraphale a little bit, as he didn’t understand how anyone could love Gabriel, or how Gabriel could be so loving toward one Angel and so dismissive of the next. He had been slightly jealous, if he was being honest. No one had ever truly loved him before, apart from God, who loved all Her Angels equally. 

Until now that is. 

This was different. This was…

“…amazing,” he finished, voice much quieter than when he’d started. 

“You know,” Raphael said gently. “Eve came up with something new the other day that I’d very much like to try, if you’re alright with it.” 

Aziraphale nodded. The archangel cupped his free hand on Aziraphale’s cheek and pressed their lips together. A thrill of light rippled from their mouths, traveling down their souls all the way down to their feet, twisting in their chests and shooting out to the tips of their wings. It was tender and pure and perfect, just like a first kiss should be. Technically speaking, it wasn’t the First Kiss ever, that one belonged to Adam and Eve. It was, however, the First Angelic Kiss of all time. And God, it felt good.

…

Aziraphale opened his eyes and realized he was on the couch in Anathema’s living room. Slowly, he exhaled and snuggled closer to Crowley, who of course had held on tightly through the memory. Adam sat cross-legged on the carpet in front of them, Dog sitting patiently in his lap. The first time he had released the memories, he had made sure they would receive the most important one, plus the Fall. Now, he had just given them back the first ones. 

“You can keep watching on your own now,” he said, though his mouth stayed closed. His voice echoed through the cosmos, reaching out to every single and Angel and Demon in existence. “It’s like a movie. Just pick up where you left off and think ‘play.’ This way you can go through at your own pace.” 

He opened his eyes and blinked at the pair on the couch. 

“Did it work?” Newt asked. He and Anathema stood off to the side, watching with curiosity and confusion. 

“Yes,” Aziraphale nodded. 

Anathema handed Adam a glass of water. “How ya feeling?” 

“Tired. But it was easier this time. They were more receptive. Except the ones still in Hell.” 

“Yeah they probably won’t watch the rest,” Crowley sighed, stroking Zira’s hair absent-mindedly. 

“And how are you doing?” 

“Much better this time. It was a much nicer memory,” Aziraphale smiled fondly. 

“Are you done with the memory thing yet, Adam?” Brian’s voice came across the walkie talkie. 

Adam held it up to his mouth. “Yeah, just finished.” 

“Good. Thought you’d want to know the neighbors have gone now so we can start moving ‘em in as soon as you’re ready.” 

“Thanks, we’ll be over in a bit,” Crowley called. 

The neighbors had moved out quicker than planned, and the process of Crowley buying the house had been completed at a remarkable speed thanks to everyone’s favorite antichrist.

“Oh help,” Newt sighed as Debbie spit up all over him. 

Crowley smiled. “Oh no, it’s your turn now.” Newt gave him a look. “Come on, angel, let’s head over.” 

“We’ll follow you in a bit,” Anathema laughed. 

There was a palpable new energy in the air as they walked down the quiet country lane back to Ms Flora’s. It was a new beginning, but different than after Armageddidn’t. Everything was out in the open now, all cards on the table, every secret confessed. They had faced Heaven and Hell twice, and survived both encounters. The Angels and Demons were so shook up after Adam’s little trick that they really wouldn’t be bothered for some time. They had a house now. A house of their own, which they had bought together. They could actually live together, in peace, for the first time in history. No more fear of repercussions, no more stolen glances, no more accidental touches. They were free, and it was exciting. 

“We should get a dog,” Crowley said suddenly. 

Aziraphale chuckled. “My dear, we already have a duck. If you want to play with a dog just go see Adam.” 

“Who says we can’t have both?” 

“Yes but the dog might eat Queenie.” 

“Not if we trained him right. Besides, you couldn’t resist me if I asked.” 

“Oh, I could too!” 

“You didn’t about Queenie.” 

“Well next time will be different.” 

“We’ll see about that,” Crowley smirked. 

Ms Flora rushed out to meet them the moment they entered the drive, looking rather excited. She hadn’t seen them since they’d been back, due to Crowley’s careful coordination with her schedule. 

“Ah, thank goodness you’re back!” she exclaimed as Crowley quickly sidestepped and kept walking. “Crisis over then?” 

“Er, yes,” Aziraphale said, trying to get Crowley to stay and be at least somewhat polite. He wasn’t quite sure what Flora had been told. “All better now. At least we hope.” 

“Good, good. And I heard you’re moving in town then?”

“Yes, we decided we quite liked it here. Moving in today, actually.” 

“Wonderful, wonderful. I say, I did have a question I’ve been meaning to ask since you disappeared.” 

“Yes?” Aziraphale asked nervously. 

Flora glanced over to where Crowley was languidly making his way up the spiral staircase. 

“I don’t mean to assume, especially after the little, er, mixup with you two…”

“Ah, yes,” Aziraphale started, about to explain that she had been partially right after all and they had finally got together now thank you very much. Unfortunately, Flora didn’t give him time. 

“Now I know he’s gay,” she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. “But I was rather hoping he might be bi, if you knew? Because if he is then believe you me, I would hit that arse.” 

Aziraphale blinked at her in a state of horrified shock, gaping like a fish. “I…you…what? No, no, no, he’s taken. Mine. Figured it out now. Stay back.” 

“Coming, angel?” Crowley called from the door.

Blushing fiercely, he hurriedly moved away, racing up the stairs. Crowley leaned over the side, watching in bewildered amusement as he tried to figure out what had happened. Aziraphale reached the top and gestured for Crowley to enter first, making sure Flora was still in full view. As Crowley disappeared into the little apartment, he landed a solid smack on his rear, quickly closing the door behind him. 

“What was that?” Crowley asked, whirling around in astonishment. 

“Oh, Ms Flora was a bit confused, I was just clearing things up for her,” he said innocently. 

“Ah, is that what that was about?” Crowley asked, leaning one-handed against the wall and effectively blocking Aziraphale from the coat rack. “You know, I can think of other ways we can clear things up, just to really make sure.” 

“My dear, the others will be over in a few minutes!” Aziraphale protested, trying to worm his way around and hang his coat. 

“Oh, there’s a lot I can do in a few minutes, angel,” Crowley said silkily. 

Aziraphale started to protest, but he was quickly shut up with a deep kiss. It didn’t take long for him to cave in. As much as he denied it, he never could resist Crowley. Especially not like this. 

…

It was a good thing Anathema could see auras. She didn’t need to ask Ms Flora, who looked like she had simultaneously been horrifically sunburned and completely drained of all color as she practically ran away from the house, what was the matter. 

“You know, it’s a lovely day for a walk,” she said, decisively turning Newt and Adam down another lane. 

“Erm, won’t we be late to help Aziraphale and Crowley?” Newt asked. 

“I don’t think they’ll notice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not that often you get to write not one, but TWO first kiss scenes in the same story. *insert happy squeals* More fluffy scenes are upcoming as we take a break from the angst, so yay!
> 
> FYI, updates may be a little slower now that school's started, not to mention I no longer feel comfortable writing this at home when someone could easily come look over my shoulder. So my writing time just got cut in half. :( But rest assured, I will keep writing and finish the story! Thanks for reading everyone!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry for the wait! It's been a tough week so I didn't have a ton of energy to write. This chapter may be a little disjointed, and if so, sorry. I wrote it pretty quickly, trying to get it finished. But I have been plotting and planning the next few chapters. Good stuff coming up. Lots of fluff before the action begins again. Enjoy!

Aziraphale was looking forward to actually settling down, with no threats from Above and Below looming over at all times. But not even a visit from the Almighty Herself could completely calm his fears that something was about to go horribly wrong.

The hammering noise, coming from upstairs, did not ease his fears. Immediately, he dropped the groceries rather unceremoniously on the table and dashed up the stairs. 

“Crowley!” he yelled, slightly panicked. 

He burst open the door to one of the upstairs room and was relieved to see Crowley safe and in one piece, surrounded by a multitude of plants and unpacked boxes. 

“Oh, hey angel. Didn’t think you’d be back this soon.” 

Aziraphale stared past him, where he could very clearly see Pepper’s house a quarter mile away. The problem was that he shouldn’t be able to see it. There was only one window in that room, and it was on the other wall entirely. 

“Crowley…” he asked hesitantly. “Why is there a hole in our house?” 

“Hmm? Oh, right, that,” Crowley fidgeted with the mallet, leaning on it like a cane. “I got carried away.” 

“How?” 

“Er…well this is the one for the plants,” he stammered. “Only it’s a bit harder when you can’t miracle anything to perfection. I sort of…kinda thought it’d be easier.” 

“Yes, dear, that’s why talked about getting a contractor to do it.” 

“Yes, well…I thought it’d be fine.”

Aziraphale sighed and examined the hole more closely, a proper mess of beams and bricks and insulation that looked quite difficult to get into. Crowley had planned on replicating his old room from the California house, with floor to ceiling windows to allow maximum sunlights for his plants. He also really, really wanted to install a little waterfall and pond for Queenie, but Aziraphale was holding fast against that one. 

“It’s a wonder you got this far at all,” he said, sounding a bit more impressed than he wanted to. 

“I imagined I was hitting Gabriel instead,” Crowley muttered. 

Aziraphale smiled in spite of himself. “And how exactly are we going to explain this to whoever will fix it?” he asked. 

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I already phoned Adam. He’s going to drop by after school so that we don’t have to do any other explaining.”

“Dear, we can’t just use him like that!” 

“He said it’s fine, and I promised this would be the last one for awhile.” 

“A month, at least,” Aziraphale stressed. “And only if something dire happens.” 

“Fair enough.” Crowley tilted the mallet in his direction. “Want to try?” 

“No! I don’t want to make it worse!” 

“Yes but Adam will fix it anyway.”

“Why would I want to do such a thing anyway?” 

“Because,” Crowley said with a devilish smile. “It’s good anger management when you pretend to hit Gabriel.” 

Aziraphale tried to resist, but it lasted all of two seconds before the image of Gabriel taking away their memories overcame all hesitation. He grabbed the mallet defiantly and took a massive swing at the wall. 

“There ya go!” Crowley called encouragingly from the sidelines. 

Aziraphale managed to get in several swings and widen the hole considerably, letting himself properly feel the 6,000 years of pent up anger towards the archangel. It felt good. And then he threw a little too much into the swing, losing his grip on the hammer and sending it flying out into the garden. 

“Erm…” 

Laughing, Crowley sidled up and leaned on his shoulder casually, though it still sent flutters through Aziraphale’s heart. 

“Wow,” he said, shaking his head. “Now THAT’S the Aziraphale I haven’t seen a LONG time. Always knew you had it in you.”

“I could have hit someone!”

“Please, we’re nowhere near the street. Felt good though, didn’t it?” 

Aziraphale allowed himself a tiny grin. “I suppose,” he said primly. “It was therapeutic.” 

“Told ya.” He kissed the side of his head fondly, which very nearly made Aziraphale melt. “I’ll go and fetch it.” 

“Probably should lay off of remodeling though.” 

“For now,” Crowley grinned. 

His own heart felt exceptionally giddy as he took the steps down three at a time. It was so easy to love Zira openly. He thought it might be difficult to overcome six millennia of careful boundaries, all the space and walls he’d erected to keep them both safe from the fallout. But it was so natural that it was a wonder he hadn’t slipped up any sooner. Despite his innate desire to appear cool and untouched, Crowley had been smiling non-stop for the past week. 

R.P. Tyler apparently thought this suspicious. Or maybe that was the gaping hole in the house where there definitely should NOT be a hole, and was probably breaking a dozen coding violations. 

“You there!” he called out disapprovingly upon seeing Crowley. “What has happened to your house?” 

“Oh, we’re remodeling,” Crowley said hurriedly, fishing the mallet out of the rosebushes. 

As good of a mood as he was in, he still did not want to interact with the neighbors. He’d much rather get this business over with and get back to Aziraphale, who had looked at him in a way that suggested he was in the mood for something else entirely. 

“I don’t think that’s legal,” R.P. Tyler sniffed. There was something slightly familiar about this strange man, and not in a good way, but more of a way that reminded him of fires and nightmares. “Look, as a member of the Tadfield Neighborhood Watch, I am responsible for making sure all rules and regulations are upheld.” 

“Good man,” Crowley smiled thinly. “Don’t worry, we’ll have it all under control by this evening.” 

“Good. I don’t want any trouble, hear?” 

“Crowley, dear, what’s taking so long?” Aziraphale called, sticking his head out of the hole. 

“Just talking with the neighbors,” Crowley called up. “This fellow doesn’t want any trouble.” 

“Ah, I understand completely,” Aziraphale nodded, catching on rather quickly. “Introvert. We won’t bother you, good sir!” 

“That is not what I meant!” Tyler said, looking rather flustered at this comeback. “Our town seems to attract troublemakers, you see…”

“Wonderful! Then we’ll fit right in,” Aziraphale said cheerfully.

“Especially that Young boy and his friends…wait…you what?” 

“Oh, Adam!” Crowley said enthusiastically, ignoring Tyler’s shocked expression. “Good friend of ours, isn’t he Zira?” 

“As are the others!” 

“Look, I have enough trouble with Them,” Tyler said, desperately trying to get a hold on the situation. “I just don’t want any trouble here.” 

“Oh, I see,” Crowley said nodding. “Don’t worry, we’ll take care of anything that needs to be taken care of.” 

He hoped he had made the innocent words sound a bit more sinister than they were, and from the look on Tyler’s face, he had succeeded. 

“We’re quite good at taking care of things,” Aziraphale added helpfully. 

“I’m going to record this!” Tyler sputtered. “Rest assured I will keep a close eye on you, and if you cross a line I WILL report it!” 

He shuffled off quickly, jerking the leash of his poor dog as he did so. Laughing, Crowley ducked inside and started putting away the groceries. Aziraphale came skipping down the steps. 

“That was fun,” he smirked. 

“Oh, I’ll have loads of fun messing with him,” Crowley agreed. Aziraphale wrapped both arms around him, hugging him from behind. “Miss me, did you?”

“I always miss you, dear,” Zira said, slipping one hand under Crowley’s shirt. 

“Ah-,” Crowley whipped around to face him, catching both hands in his own. “Can’t have that now,” he teased. 

“Why ever not?” the angel pouted. 

“Because there’s a party tonight and we still have loads to do.” 

“We have time,” Aziraphale insisted, leaning closer. 

“You said that last time,” Crowley grinned. “Before you got…ah, carried away, shall we say?” 

Aziraphale blushed heavily. “Not this time, I promise.”

“We both know that’s not going to happen, and you know how stressed you get when company’s coming and you’re not ready. Just wait until tonight,” he winked. 

Aziraphale looked positively crestfallen. “You can’t make me wait that long…”

“YOU made me wait 6,000 years,” Crowley laughed, leaning in for a quick kiss. “Surely you can wait a few hours. Now go, start cleaning up or whatever it is you want to do.” 

...

There were two housewarming parties, actually. The first was open to the neighbors, despite Crowley’s protests. It was not a very exciting evening, although they were finally able to meet the Them’s parents and convince them that they weren’t creepy and that they didn’t mind the children coming over to visit. They kept up the facade that they had run a camp together, but had decided to retire. They missed the children, they said, and the Them helped fill that void. With Adam’s help, all the parents were quite taken with the odd couple by the end of the night. 

The second party was a more intimate affair, featuring two former witch-hunters, one witch, one retired Jezebel, four pre-teens including an antichrist, one baby antichrist, and two not-so-angels-not-so-demons who were very much in love…and completely hammered. 

They hadn’t started out that way of course. There had been games and good food and swapped stories and laughter. It was also the first time Anathema had brought Debbie over to see her godfathers since the battle, insisting that she needed some time to bond with her real parents. Aziraphale and Crowley had reluctantly agreed, but were all too happy to see her again. 

It was Tracy’s idea to break out the alcohol. Newt had protested about the children, but the Them had insisted they didn’t mind and they had no desire to drink the detestable stuff anyway. Now most of the adults in the room were completely responsible when it came to drinking, and were very well behaved. 

Two of them, on the other hand were not. 

Although, I can’t suppose we can blame them. They had spent most of their 6,000 years on earth able to drink two or three bottles each without being affected at all, and it took at least six to get completely sloshed. But now, Crowley and Aziraphale were human, and it took approximately two drinks in ten minutes to forget that fact entirely. Had one of the other adults taken notice of this, they probably could have been reminded of this Very Important Detail, and not gone any further. But Tracy had quietly convinced the others to let them get a few drinks in. She very cleverly knew that people become more honest when they lose their inhibitions. And she wanted to hear the whole story. After the pair had downed at least five glasses, she signaled Brian, who had been waiting impatiently for his cue all night. 

“Say, Aziraphale,” he said suddenly, trying not to sound too eager. “You never did finish telling us your story at the airbase.”

“Hmm?” Aziraphale asked, blinking and looking slightly confused. It had been nearly a year, after all.

“We said we wanted the whole story,” Anathema prompted as she took Debbie back from Crowley, who had gotten too drunk to protest. “You started in Eden but we didn’t have time to—“

“Oh YES!” Aziraphale said, setting down his glass and clapping his hands excitedly. Newt took the opportunity to take the glass and the remaining wine back to the kitchen. “Oh, issa good story.” 

“You’re gonna tell the whole thing?” Crowley asked, his head flopping sideways onto his shoulder. “All six thou—thousand yearss?” 

“Not everything,” Aziraphale hiccuped. “Just the most important bits.” 

“What are those?” 

“The ones with you.” 

“Oh.” 

Tracy settled deeper into the armchair. This was already getting good. Even the children were interested, though they pretended to play with Debbie, now on the floor with them. 

“Right. So. Eden…”

“You knew each other in Heaven though,” Adam pointed out. 

“OH YEAH, I FORGOT.” He started giggling uncontrollably. “Quite literally, actually.” 

“Oi!” Crowley protested. “Iss not that funny!” 

“Ss-sorry love.” Crowley grinned sappily, forgetting what had made him slightly upset. “Yes, we met in Heaven. He was a…an arch-archangel. We went flying through the stars together.” 

“Skip the sad bit,” Crowley said. “They know that part.” 

“Ok, so. EDEN. Everything was fine. It was good. And then somehow this…wily serpent managed to get in…”

“Can we skip to the wall?” Crowley asked.

“No, no, it’s important.”

“Not everything I did is important!”

“Yes, it is. Now I was supposed to be on apple tree duty, but I got distracted with…with, oh what was it? It wasn’t a frog. That was later.” 

“Me.”

“No, no, you came later too.”

“No, you got distracted with a snake…that was me!”

“It was!?!” Aziraphale gasped, shocked. 

“Yes!” Crowley cried, looking at him incredulously. “How did you not know that by now?” 

“Because you were supposed to be with Eve!” 

“I was. And she asked how she was supposed to eat the apple when you were standing there, so I said, I’ll go distract him and you can get in that way.” 

“Oh dear.” 

“Out of curiosity,” Pepper said. “How did you manage to convince her to eat it in the first place?” 

“I…er…don’t remember,” Crowley said, slinking into the couch. 

“You look like you do,” Adam said.

“I suppose you said something like, you will be like God if you eat it, didn’t you?” Aziraphale asked. 

“That’s just what they wrote down,” Crowley said, turning a bright shade of red. “I don’t know if I used those exact words…specifically.” 

“Then what did you say?” Newt prompted. 

“Well she almost was convinced,” Crowley babbled, unable to resist the alcoholic influences. “But she said…she said she wasn’t quite sure…and I ssaid look, could we hurry this along because I really want to talk with that angel…” 

“Oh my God,” Aziraphale cried, actually tears threatening to spill over. 

“What a wingwoman,” Pepper said. “Iconic.” 

“Right now skip to the wall,” Crowley said. “I-hic-came up to say hello after everything happened. And here’s this angel who gave away his HEAVENLY SWORD OF DEATH!” 

“You mean the one that War had?” Wensley asked. 

“Yes,” Aziraphale admitted, looking around somewhat confusedly for his drink, then promptly forgetting about it. “When they were cast out of the Garden I thought they should need some help…”

“So the angel guarding the gate with a flaming sword,” Shadwell said. “Actually gave it away? Everything’s wrong?” 

“Well not everything, everything,” Aziraphale said. “But it’s not entirely accurate, no. But I don’t think I would have given it away if we…,” he gestured vaguely to Crowley, who had shifted to lay his head in Zira’s lap, “…hadn’t been talking about…the Great Plan and all that.”

“So obviously I was smitten,” Crowley beamed. 

“Were you?” Tracy asked Aziraphale. 

“Not quite. Mine came later. But I still…still talked to him. ‘Bout ineffability ’n’ stuff. And then the rain came.” 

“And then the rain came! It was the first time anyone’d seen rain. It was a little unsettling. And for some reason he lifted his wing up to shelter me…”

“Isss cause we did it in Heaven. I did it auto—auto…oh help…”

“Automatically?” Anathema grinned. 

“Yes! Oh, thank you. I didn’t even think about it, I just did.”

“And you still didn’t remember?” Brian asked. 

“Nuthin’ t’all,” he said glumly. 

“But you were more civil than the others,” Crowley said, poking him to cheer him up.

“Well you listened when I talked. I didn’t have anyone to talk to for…for decades and decades…never. And I realized you weren’t all bad…on the Ark.” 

“What happened on the Ark?” Newt asked. 

“You don’t have to tell them—“ Crowley began.

“He saved the children!” Aziraphale exclaimed, beginning to cry again. 

As Aziraphale and Crowley argued on exactly how many children were secretly onboard the Ark, Brian went over to the ice cream sundae bar and grabbed some plastic spoons and a bottle of chocolate sauce. He rejoined his friends excitedly, dishing out spoons of syrup. 

“One spoonful for every time Aziraphale cries,” he whispered. 

“You’re on,” Pepper grinned, taking two to catch up. 

“Won’t we get sick?” Wensley asked. 

“Nah, I’ll make sure of that,” Adam promised. 

“I like where you’re head’s at, kid,” Anathema grinned, pouring actual shots for the adults. 

They had put a stop to the game about 40 minutes later, when it became apparent that the story was still fixed in the B.C. era and the emotions were not slowing down. Anathema and Newt sketched up some impromptu Bingo cards instead, featuring squares for “someone says ineffable/ineffability,” “Crowley rescues Aziraphale,” “someone mentions they wanted to kiss,” “close call with Heaven/Hell,” and “Crowley turning into a snake,” among others. Crowley and Aziraphale didn’t notice. In fact, they didn’t really notice their guests either. It was more like they were talking to each other, and answering vague questions that came from beyond the void. 

“I think we may have overestimated the drinks,” Shadwell whispered to Tracy two hours later. 

“Just a touch,” she agreed, looking at the four exhausted children stretched out on the floor. Brian was on the verge of falling asleep. 

Since Crowley and Aziraphale didn’t seem to notice them anyway, she rounded up the children and gave them all a ride home. Newt took Debbie back as well, leaving Anathema to deal with the two drunk idiots. 

“Alright you two, party’s over,” she said, pulling Crowley to his feet. 

“BICYCLE GIRL!” 

“Yep, that’s me,” she sighed. “Come on, where’s your bedroom?” 

“Iss our bedroom,” Crowley corrected seriously as he pointed. “I wanted it to be on the ground floor so issss always in easssy reach…” 

“Lovely,” Anathema smiled thinly, practically dragging him across the room.

“Wait where are you taking him?!?” Aziraphale asked, standing far too fast and falling over. 

“Just to bed,” Anathema promised. 

“But there’s a party…OH WE SHOULD GAVOTTE!!!”

“Not anymore, they all went home. It was getting late.” 

“Oh dear.” 

“C’mon, your turn now. You gotta help me though, I’m not that strong.” 

“I’m very strong,” he said wistfully. “Or I was until I Fell…” He frowned, not quite used to saying it aloud. 

“There ya go,” she said, sitting him down on the bed. Crowley was sprawled on top of the covers. 

“What are you still doing here?” he asked, confused. 

“Helping you remember you’re human,” she said, taking off his shoes, “and you need sleep.” 

“Oh. I s’pose we do, don’t we?” 

“Sleep’s nice,” Crowley murmured into the pillow.

“Very,” Anathema agreed. “And you’re about to get lots of it.”

“Don’t let me sleep through a century again,” Crowley begged. “I don’t want Debbie to be a hundred when I wake up.” 

“Don’t care about the rest of us who have died?” she couldn’t resist teasing. Crowley blinked uncertainly. “Never mind. Goodnight, you two.” 

She left them laying there, not entirely sure what had just happened. 

“I had a thought,” Aziraphale said a moment later.

“Whassat?” 

“You know those hom—hom—those people who say the thing?” 

“What thing?”

Aziraphale thought very, very hard. “The Bible said…the Bible said Adam and Eve, not Adam and…the other guy.”

“Steve.”

“Yeah.” 

“What about it?” 

“Oh, yes! I had a thought. There didn’t need to be a Steve.” 

Crowley looked over at him in confusion. “That’s the point. Eve was there already.” 

“Yes, yes, but listen! Listen!”

“I am listening.”

“Oh…I forgot what I was gonna say.”

“Adam and Stevie.” 

“Oh yes! There didn’t need to be an Adam and Steve. They had us. Adam and Eve and Crowley and Zira.” 

“Holy shit, angel, you’re right.” 

He leaned over, excited by this new revelation, but Aziraphale put a hand to his chest to stop him. 

“Crowley…we are very drunk.”

“Are you just now realizing this?” 

“I…no. I’m just sayin’, we’re gonna have a terrible hangover tomorrow.”

“So?” 

“We can’t miracle it away like we used to.”

“I have far too much wine in me to agree with you.” 

“Sleep!” Aziraphale protested, giggling. 

“Nah.” 

“We’re both gonna regret it tomorrow.”

“I never regret being with you, Zira.” 

“Shit,” he wheezed. 

“Just a kiss,” Crowley begged. 

“If you kiss me then I won’t be able to stop,” Aziraphale sighed, starting to cave in already. 

“You can’t say things like that, angel,” Crowley whispered, closing the distance between them. 

...

“Do you think they’ll be ok?” Newt asked worriedly. 

“By Tuesday,” Anathema grinned. 

“What if we gave them alcohol poisoning?” 

“Newt, trust me, they’re fine. They’re probably sound asleep by—“ Anathema abruptly stopped speaking and sighed deeply. 

“What?” Newt asked, arching an eyebrow. 

“Those idiots! I told them to go to sleep!” 

“How do you know…?”

“Auras, Newt, their bloody auras.” 

“Ah. Well…I think they’ll probably be fine then.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm rubbish at writing weddings, but this is kind of my dream wedding (which I didn't get) so it was a bit easier.

Adam turned 12 quietly, as usual not wanting to make a big fuss about things. The morning was spent with the Them in their little Eden, playing dozens of new games that he had come up with while in California. They went round to see Debbie just before her afternoon nap, and when she was sleep they went for some tea with Aziraphale and Crowley. The Them tried to ignore the tension. The adults still had the memories of Armageddidn’t fresh on their minds. Aziraphale worried that someone would come around for a rather unpleasant visit, but the day came and went without incident. 

So did the next day. And the day after that. 

And on the 366th day of the rest of their lives, everyone seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief, and Debbie smiled. 

On the 367th day, a wedding invitation arrived in the mail.

“Oh!” Aziraphale cried delightedly. “I didn’t know they’d gotten this far in the planning!” 

“What?” Crowley asked, draped across the sofa. He was trying to look cool, but, as usual, just looked like an endearing mess. 

“Newt and Anathema set a date for the wedding,” he smiled, joining him on the other end. “Oh, I am happy for them.” 

“Hmm.” 

“What?” Aziraphale sighed, bracing himself for some sarcastic comment or excuses not to attend.

“Nothing, just thinking.” 

“Yes, and?” 

“D’ya think I could wear a dress?” 

The glowing smile that blossomed across Zira’s face was bright enough to knock anybody over. 

“Oh, dear, that would be lovely! You always look so nice in a dress.” 

“It’s just…” Crowley shifted somewhat uncomfortably. “I haven’t worn a dress without…without the proper form. It’s different now…”

“No it isn’t,” Aziraphale said gently. “Not in today’s modern world. Besides, it’ll be a small wedding anyway, according to what Anathema last told me.” 

“And what constitutes as a small wedding by her book?” Crowley asked. “She’s from America, remember? 300?” 

“I hope not!” Aziraphale cried, looking slightly scandalized. “I don’t think they even know 300 people. No, no, she said they both wanted a smaller, intimate affair. Neither have much family. At a guess…50 maximum.” 

“Hmm. I suppose that won’t be that bad.” 

“You’ll manage,” Aziraphale grinned fondly. 

“I won’t be able to miracle my hair into place either…”

“Maybe Tracy can help,” he suggested. “She seems to be rather good with that sort of thing.” 

He tried to go back to his book, but his mind was decidedly pulled towards weddings. “They’ll have a honeymoon, I suppose.”

“Probably.” 

“I wonder if we could watch Debbie while they’re gone…”

Crowley brightened at that idea, showing some interest. “I’d like that.”

“Do you think they’ll do the gavotte?” Aziraphale asked hopefully. 

“Ha!” Crowley scoffed. “Doubt it.”

“Oh, but it used to be so popular at weddings…”

“Angel,” Crowley asked, sighing a little. “When was the last time you actually went to a wedding.” 

Aziraphale bit his lip, thinking. “Well, I suppose it must have been in the late 1800s,” he admitted. “Maybe the early 1900s. I’m forgetting when William and Charles got married…”

“Who?” Crowley asked, sitting up slowly. 

“Two of my friends from the Gentleman’s Club,” Aziraphale said off-handedly, still thinking. “You wouldn’t know them. Now was it 1893? No, that’s not right.” 

“Two of your friends, from the Gentleman’s Club, got MARRIED,” Crowley said deliberately, trying to hide the mischievous grin from spreading across his face. “In the late 1800s? Now how, pray, did that come about?” 

“Oh, no,” Aziraphale said quickly, going a bit pink around the ears. “It wasn’t a legal marriage of course. Obviously. As far as the government knew they were just good neighbors who had conversations long into the night and in the end just fell asleep on each other’s couches…”

“Wedding?” Crowley pressed. 

“Small occasion, just friends from the club,” he said, looking down very hard at his book and not looking at Crowley. “Not a big deal…” 

“And who…” Crowley flopped down again, this time with his head in Aziraphale’s lap, forcing their eyes to meet. “Who officiated this wonderful secret ceremony?” 

“Really, dear, does it matter that much—?” 

“Because the way I see it,” Crowley interrupted, “is that somebody with…religious authority would have to be the one to officiate in order to be considered a proper wedding at the time. Er, well, as proper as a gay wedding in the 1800s could be.” 

“Why are you so—?”

“And I didn’t think there were many religious figures who were condoning of that sort of behavior back in the day. Hell, there were barely any a few decades ago…”

“Yes, alright, fine! I did it!” Aziraphale finally burst out. 

“Ha! I knew it.” 

“Then why did you push so hard?” 

“Because you denied it, naughty angel.” Aziraphale blushed heavily. “Besides, going around the law, secret ceremonies…I didn’t know you had it in you.” 

“Shut up. You did.” 

Crowley grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him down for a kiss. 

“Never could resist a good tease, angel,” he smiled. 

He slid off the couch, much to Aziraphale’s dismay, and sauntered over to the phonograph. 

“What are you doing?” Zira asked, admitting defeat and finally setting his book down. 

“Finding some good music to practice with,” Crowley said, thumbing through the new records that they had recently acquired on the most recent trip to London. 

“But the wedding’s not till October!” 

“Yes, and all you know how to dance is the gavotte,” Crowley teased. He took Zira’s hand and pulled him up. “Besides,” he said quietly, all mirth gone from his voice. “I like dancing with you.” 

…

It was a nice Fall wedding. Anathema wasn’t a big fan of churches, so after much deliberation, they decided to hold the ceremony in the little in the little den of Hogback Wood. The weather was absolutely perfect thanks to Adam. It was just warm enough for the grass to provide a mossy green cover, with little mushrooms lining the aisle, while a fire of crimson and marigold overhead filtered the sun like golden fairy dust. There were no bridesmaids or groomsmen, no big wedding party to cause a fuss and stress over meaningless items. The sun itself set slowly, unwilling to miss the beautiful moment as Newt and Anathema exchanged their vows. It was beautifully simple, and Aziraphale, even without the angelic powers, could still sense the tremendous love that filled the little dell. 

The main guests, of course, were the Them and their families, Shadwell and Tracy, Aziraphale and Crowley, Anathema’s parents, Newt’s mother, three grandparents that nobody really could understand who was related to who, and a small scattering of aunts, uncles, and cousins. 

Oh, and two wedding crashers: one demon and one angel. 

Michael and Dagon showed up late, when the bonfires had been lit and the reception was in full swing. Both looked very nice and properly dressed for a wedding in their lavender and navy suits, respectively. 

“Hello, Crowley,” Dagon said, doing her best to sound cheerful. 

Tensing, Crowley spun around, sending her dress twirling outwards. That part had been easy. In the very first store they had looked in, they had found a navy blue dress that sparkled like starlight. Crowley had taken one look and promptly grabbed it off the rack without a word. He didn’t even look at the others. The hair, on the other hand, had taken a good deal longer. Multiple failed attempts and several curses had ended with a simple slicked back approach. Not really the curls she had wanted, but it looked good nonetheless. 

“Relax, we’re not here to make trouble,” Michael said smoothly. 

Aziraphale ran up beside Crowley, who was currently opening and closing her mouth in astonishment, not sure what to say. 

“And what exactly are you here for?” he demanded, trying to look stern. It was rather difficult when he was trying to hold three s’mores in his hands.

“We heard there was a wedding,” she said pleasantly. “We came to give our congratulations.” 

“Oh, of course,” Aziraphale said, frowning a bit in confusion. “I believe they’re sitting down over there, they just finished the dancing.” 

Michael and Dagon looked over to the dais, where Newt and Anathema were talking with a cousin Crowley didn’t even think was related to either of them. 

“You mean it’s not yours?” Dagon asked, looking at Aziraphale and Crowley in disappointment. 

This time it was Aziraphale’s turn to go speechless. Crowley recovered quickly. 

“Yeah, about that,” she said quickly, failing to maintain the Scottish accent she’d been carrying all night. Aziraphale looked up expectantly. “That was a distraction. Just a ruse, really. Trying to stall for time, you know. Weddings…very human. Don’t really see the point.” 

“Oh, I see,” Michael nodded, slightly embarrassed. “Terribly sorry.” 

“It’s…not a problem,” Aziraphale said, swallowing hard and handing a s’more to Crowley. 

The four of them stood there awkwardly, wondering what to say, when Pepper rushed in with her mother. 

“See, I TOLD you I wouldn’t be the only girl wearing a suit!” 

(She had been complaining a few weeks ago how her mother was forcing her to get a dress for the wedding, and when she heard Crowley was wearing a dress…well. Crowley had marched over to have A Word before Pepper had even finished asking for help. 

“But she can’t wear a suit to the wedding,” her mother had protested. “It’s not proper! People will stare!” 

“Says the woman who named her daughter Pippin Galadriel Moonchild,” Crowley had shot back. “And if that’s what you’re worried about, they’ll all be staring at me anyways. Fuck gender stereotypes, if I’m wearing a dress then she can wear a goddamn suit if that’s what she wants!” 

Pepper had whooped enthusiastically and given him a resounding high-five.)

“Sorry about her,” Pepper’s mother sighed. She held out her hand amiably. “Cynthia. Hello.” 

“Michael. Pleasure.”

Dagon hesitated a moment. “The name’s Dae,” she said finally. 

“How interesting,” she mused, then stopped at another look from Crowley. “Lovely to meet you both. I don’t mean to be rude, but I’ve just been pulled away in the middle of a conversation from Deidre. I’m sure I’ll see you around.” 

“Dae?” Crowley asked as she left. 

“That’s what I decided to go as,” she explained. “Ariel…didn’t quite fit anymore. And you?”

“Still Crowley. I dropped my demonic name as Crawley a long time ago.” 

“Makes sense,” Dae nodded. “Everyone’s trying to figure it out now. Some of us went back to the old names, some kept it, and a few did a hybrid.”

“How are they all adjusting?” Adam asked, slipping into the conversation. 

“Some better than others,” Michael explained. “I doubt you’ll receive any visits from anyone anytime soon if that’s what you’re asking. I’ll tell you this much: nobody’s gone back to Heaven yet. Just spent a lot of time talking. Uriel started a support group network. That seems to be helpful.” 

“What about old fly-face?” Crowley asked. 

“Bee. Still yelling at Gabriel. Although I think it’s more off and on now. They have good days and bad ones from what I can tell.” 

“They’re not causing any trouble, are they?” 

“Not on earth, thank goodness. After the first week we went and told them to go work out their issues out in space.” 

“Bee’s punishment was knowing what Gabriel had done,” Dae said. “Lucifer only had to do a bit of twisting to make the memory seem worse. Didn’t take much though. She’s come talked to me though, so that’s some progress.” 

“But everyone who didn’t get cast back to Hell is doing alright?” Adam asked. “I mean, did it work?” 

“Yes,” both grinned simultaneously. 

“It’s working brilliantly,” Michael promised. “I must commend you again.” 

“Not really my idea,” Adam shrugged. “I had some help from Agnes.” 

“You never know,” Pepper said encouragingly. “Agnes could have been helping you along the way, but it could have been your idea all along.”

“That could be true,” Adam realized, perking up. 

A sharp whistle from Newt caught everyone’s attention. 

“Hi everyone!” he called. “We’re going to start the group dancing now that everyone’s gotten a bite to eat. This first one will be new to some of you, especially our out of town guests, but I’m sure you’ll catch on and have a good time.” 

He nodded at Wensleydale, who put a new record on the gramophone. A familiar, bouncy tune drifted out into the night forest. Aziraphale brightened for the first time since Crowley had adamantly insisted that the proposed wedding was for distraction purposes only, looking up at her eagerly. 

“You didn’t!” 

“It took a bit of convincing,” Crowley grinned. “But everyone from Tadfield’s been practicing for weeks.” 

Squirming with delight, Aziraphale planted a quick kiss on Crowley’s cheek. “Thank you, my dear!” 

He grabbed her arm and rushed to the center of the hollow. It was wonderful to dance a full gavotte again. 

…

Michael leaned against the tall wooden table, thoughtfully watching the dance floor. Dae was throughly enjoying her first s’more, not really paying attention. After the first few slow dances, most people had gone off to get more refreshments or speak to the newly Mr. and Mrs. Pulsifer. Aziraphale and Crowley had been the only ones out in the open for awhile now, and neither seemed to notice. 

“We should have another bet,” Brian announced from the table next to them.

“On what?” Adam asked. 

“When they’ll get married.” 

Michael immediately sidled up to them. “Count me in.” 

“You, betting?” Dae asked, licking the marshmallow off her fingers as she followed. 

“Of course,” she said, trying to look dignified. “It’s not harmful for us.” 

“And you’re encouraging it for them?” 

“It’s harmless, really,” Wensleydale promised. “We only do $5 each.” 

“Right,” Adam said, producing a pen and paper from his pocket. “This time we’ll make it a bit more interesting. Let’s put a when AND who proposes to who.” 

“Oh definitely Crowley,” Dae said. 

Pepper scoffed. “Have you met him? It’ll be Aziraphale for sure.” 

“If that’s the case then it’ll be a year,” Michael sighed. 

“I think they’ll both do it at the same time,” Anathema said, surprising them as she passed. “But in about two years.” 

“Not that long, surely,” Michael said. “They’re both thinking about it, I can tell.”

“You might be able to tell,” Anathema said calmly. She had taken the wedding crashers’ arrival quite well. “But they’re idiots who didn’t realize their love was reciprocated for 6,000 years.” 

“Fair point,” Dae agreed. 

“Hang on, I can’t write this fast!” Adam protested, smiling. 

In the end, there were 3 votes for Crowley, and 5 votes for Aziraphale, and two for both at the same time. As far as the timeline went, most wagers placed it within the year, with only Anathema and Michael placing bets beyond that. The two dancers in the middle were, of course, completely oblivious. But what else was new?

…

*Later that night*

Aziraphale draped a blanket gently over Crowley, who was passed out on the floor of the living room next to Debbie. The baby had fallen asleep first, fingers wrapped tightly around Crowley’s fingers. Crowley had refused to move after that, even to lay her in the pack’n’play Anathema’s mother had brought over for them. Aziraphale knew better than to protest. They were taking care of Debbie for the next two weeks, while Newt and Anathema went on their honeymoon across Europe. Crowley wasn’t going to waste a single second. And as much as Aziraphale loved Debbie, he loved watching Crowley love her even more. 

But then the words spoken at the reception came back to haunt him, souring his mood instantly. 

Sighing, he went into the little library they’d created and sat at his desk. Quietly, he opened a draw and pulled out the little box. A quick glance back to the living room assured him Crowley hadn’t stirred, and he peered in sadly. The little golden ring peered back at him, hopeful and expectant. 

Just a human thing, really. Not a point, was there? 

He was just being silly and sentimental. It didn’t matter, not really. After all, they were together now, after 6,000 years of silence and secrets and longing. 

They had a house. That was human. 

“We’re human,” Aziraphale whispered, running his fingers over the engraving of the wings. 

The box shut with a definitive click. No use moping about it now. It was fine. They were together, they knew they loved each other. And that was enough. 

He should return it. No point in Crowley accidentally finding it and coming up with the wrong impression. No use in getting him all flustered and spooked like he did. All the same, Aziraphale couldn’t quite let go of it. 

With a heavy heart, he carefully stowed it in the false bottom of the drawer, piling a mess back on top so that no one could find it. 

If only Crowley hadn’t been so hasty with his words, then Brian might have won the bet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, ya'll. Couldn't resist adding a bit more angst. 
> 
> Also, for those of you who are waiting for the Ineffable Beauracracy to show up, don't worry. They'll be along in a bit, after they've finished yelling.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this is messy, I uploaded it in a hurry and didn't have time to double check the formatting. It's been a rough week.

_Eight months after the Apocalypse.___

Crowley squeezed his eyes shut and covered his ears in desperation, trying to shut out the world. But the smoke still filled his nose so he couldn’t breathe, and his mouth tasted like ash. Around him came the horrifying crackling as the fire consumed everything in it’s path, but far more terrifying was the deafening silence. Heat threatened to overwhelm him, and he didn’t dare open his eyes. He wasn’t sure if he would be Falling again, or in the bookshop, or in the cottage. But he knew he wouldn’t like it. 

Wake up. Now. Before anything happens…

“Denial won’t save them, Crowley!” Hastur barked, practically screaming in his ear. 

Crowley’s eyes snapped open, glaring at the Demon with loathing. Originally, he’d been glad Hastur hadn’t been one of the redeemed. Now he wished he had, if only to stop the relentless nightmares. 

“I know it’s only a dream,” he growled. 

“Are you sure about that?” Hastur sneered, sweeping his arms in a wide gesture around them. 

They were in Tadfield. Or, what was left of it. Crowley couldn’t stop himself from inhaling sharply, devastated to see the little village in such a state. It hadn’t just been on fire, it had been bombed. The only remnants that remained still stood only for the purpose of identifying the places Crowley loved most. 

A sharp cry, more of a shriek, wailed overhead. 

“Debbie…” Crowley gasped. 

It’s only a dream, it’s only a dream, he told himself. It’s not real… But in spite of everything, he could still feel himself beginning to panic. Hastur was controlling him like a puppet, and it was terrifying. 

“Brilliant plan, really,” Hastur said, sounding pleased with himself. “Taking away everything that the antichrist was supposed to love. And then YOU took it away from her.”

“No…”

“That’s what we’ll tell her, anyway. Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of her.” 

Crowley lunged, knowing that it wouldn’t make a difference. Hastur vanished like smoke in the wind. But unlike the other times, the dream didn’t end. Nobody threatened to kill him, or torture him, or lock him up. He was just alone in the middle of a raging inferno. 

His feet started moving on their own accord, past the shattered remains of their garden, turning towards town. The mangled remains of Pepper’s bike gleamed ominously from beneath the rubble, the metal twisted and melting around a lone shoe. Crowley couldn’t bear to look any closer. Most of the dreams he was forced to look, forced to see his worse nightmares come to life. But here, he had the option. And that made it all the more terrifying…because it was becoming more and more realistic by the second. 

A crunch beneath his feet. Stooping, he picked up Wensley’s glasses with a choked cry. Dog limped up the path in front of him, whimpering pitifully as he came to Crowley, softly nipping his heels and begging him for help. He followed automatically, running even as the air became heavier, threatening to smother him. In the town square, the new bookshop was the last building to fall victim to the destruction. It leered over mockingly, mirroring the last bookshop fire that had devastated him. This time, there was a body. This time, he knew the angel was dead. 

Aziraphale was stretched out on the pavement, arms reaching and eyes forever glazed in panic. His hand still gripped tightly to the little pink bunny they had bought Debbie only a few days prior. Crowley fell to his knees, screaming against the cruelty of it all. Screaming, and hoping he’d wake up. 

Dog licked his face sympathetically, trying to comfort him. 

“No!” Crowley lashed out. “You don’t get to do that! Not in a nightmare, not if Hell has anything to do with it!” Dog whined and looked offended. “If you do that…then it’s real,” he whispered brokenly. “And it CAN’T be real, got it?!?” 

Dog lay down, still whining, and Crowley ignored him. Gently, he brushed a hand over Zira’s eyes, unable to look at them so lifeless. Another sob was building in his chest, squeezing him so tightly that he couldn’t breathe. He blinked away tears and stared up into the dark, smoky sky.

“You can’t let this happen, YOU HEAR ME?!?” he screamed, voice raw as smoke filled his throat. “You’re on Our Side now, you can’t let Hell win!!” 

His fingers curled painfully in the dirt as he tried to ground himself back to reality. It wasn’t working. He looked back at Aziraphale, who was starting to collect a layer of ash. 

“Don’t you dare take him away from me,” he growled. “Not so soon…” 

His strength ebbed away slowly, and he lay down, curling his body around Zira’s. But he was already stiff and so cold despite the flames. Crowley did his absolute hardest to imagine himself back at home, in THEIR cottage, in THEIR bed, safe and sound. 

It still wasn’t working. Most nightmares didn’t go on this long. 

He was gripped by a sudden and intense fear that maybe, even if it was a nightmare, he’d be trapped here. Somehow, maybe, he’d been put into a coma, doomed to be haunted by Hastur until someone, maybe Michael, could wake him up. Anathema had never spoken about what happened in the coma, trying not to scare the children, but Crowley could tell by her haunted expression anytime dreams or Hastur was mentioned that she had been thoroughly tortured. 

“Wake up!” he screamed into Aziraphale’s unforgiving shoulder. “Please, please wake up!” 

He started screaming, as loud and as high as he could, desperately rocking back and forth in the dirt.

“ZIRA HELP ME!!!!”

And then, quite unexpectedly, he felt a softness brush against his lips, warmth flooding through him that felt much more real than the fire around him. Crowley latched onto the feeling with everything in him. Suddenly the Aziraphale in front of him became warm and soft and very much alive, arms wrapped around him securely. The street melted away and he was pulled back into bed. Crowley broke the kiss, burying his face in Zira’s neck, gasping and half-sobbing in relief. Gently, Zira tilted his head back so he could look him in the eye. 

“Are you alright?” he asked softly, voice shaking in thinly disguised concern. 

Crowley shook his head. “Damn it, Hastur,” he croaked. 

Every nerve felt like it was on fire, like that awful tingly feeling you get when your foot falls asleep, only this time it was over his entire body. He sat up and ran his hands frantically through his hair. 

“I’ve been trying to wake you for nearly five minutes,” Aziraphale apologized, rubbing his back soothingly. “I was starting to think they’d actually gotten a physical hold on you, like Anathema.”

“Me too,” Crowley groaned, staring at the clock. 3:00AM. “It could still be a dream. He’s getting better. The other day I thought I woke up and then it turned into another nightmare...” 

He leaped suddenly out of bed, heart beating out of his chest as he threw on a robe. 

“What are you doing??”

“I have to see Debbie.” He ran out of the room, not even bothering to get shoes. 

“It’s the middle of the night!” Aziraphale protested, grabbing a coat from the closet in case Crowley tried to make a run for it. 

“Feeding time!” Crowley yelled as he dashed out the door. 

Even if it wasn’t a dream, it could be a warning. Maybe bombers really were on their way, demons or otherwise, and they only had a short amount of time to evacuate the entire village. The thought sent a fresh wave of adrenaline, and his legs pumped even faster as he cut across the back field to Jasmine Cottage, completely oblivious to the cold. There was a light on downstairs. 

Anathema didn’t need a prophecy or an aura to tell he was coming. Sometimes, she just had good instincts. And tonight, when everything in the world seemed to be conspiring against them to actually get a good night’s rest, of course Crowley would be coming. She opened the door before he got there and glared daggers at him, daring him to come a step closer. 

“I need to see Debbie,” he panted before she could say anything. 

“Over my dead body,” she growled. 

Crowley looked visibly alarmed. “What have you done to her?” he hissed, instantly going into high alert. 

“She’s been fussy all night, and we JUST got her to sleep.” 

“Yeah that’s why you should leave her to the care of humans before you start using her in your demonic plans!” he spat. 

“Hang on,” Newt moaned, pushing between them. “She’s not possessed, Crowley, just sleep deprived and cranky.”

“I’m not cranky!”

“You have every right to be.” He looked at Crowley’s bloodshot eyes, and at Aziraphale struggling to climb over the fence in the field behind him, falling into the snow. “Nightmare?” he asked quietly. 

Crowley didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. All the anger drained away, leaving only fear and grief in its place. 

“If you promise to be very, very quiet, and not to touch her, I’ll let you see her,” Newt said with the voice of someone who understood.

“You’ll what?!?” Anathema gasped. 

“Trust me,” Newt said quietly. “We’ll just like our heads in, and come right back out. But if you wake her,” he added seriously to Crowley. “I will punch you in the face.”

“Fair enough,” Crowley said. “I nearly kicked Adam one night for the same thing.” 

Newt placed a reassuring hand on Crowley’s shoulder and led him into the house, purposefully steering away from the creaking floorboards. The nursery door, which was oiled at least twice a week for their own sanity, opened slowly, letting in only a small beam of light. Crowley peered in, watching as eight-month-old Debbie lay peacefully in her crib, sweaty brown curls plastered to her face. She certainly looked like she’d had a rough night, but she was not in any immediate danger. Crowley let out an audible sigh of relief and backed away, heading straight for the door. 

“Hang on,” Newt hissed, grabbing his arm. 

“But I have to see Adam…”

“Sit.” 

Aziraphale grabbed his arm and pulled him down onto the couch, where he had also collapsed. Anathema had handed him a blanket, which he had wrapped himself in gratefully. Newt shuffled wearily into the kitchen and poured a glass of milk from the fridge. Crowley took it mutely. 

“I’d offer you some tea, but…”

“Don’t push it,” Anathema warned. 

“We’ll get some when we get home,” Aziraphale sighed. 

Newt perched on the ottoman across from them, watching intently as Crowley drank and refused to look at anyone. 

“My mother had nightmares,” Newt said simply. “After we left my father. She kept waking up thinking he was coming after us, and she wouldn’t go back to sleep again. She would do just about everything she could to stop him. We had eight locks on the doors, and she checked all of them multiple times. She wedged books in the windows to keep them from opening…”

Aziraphale let out a horrified gasp, but Anathema kicked him lightly. 

“She even cleaned the whole house. As if that would help. She even called the cops a couple times. And she would always, always check on me to make sure I was safe. At least five times through the night. I wouldn’t mind so much the first time, but I got pretty tired of it pretty fast. Eventually the cops got her into therapy, and she slowly relaxed. It took a long time, but she got the point where if she did have a nightmare, she would double check the locks, the windows, and me. Just once, and that was it. It didn’t go away completely until the car accident, and even then she still checked in on me occasionally.” 

“As horrible as your father was,” Crowley said carefully, downing the rest of the milk. He had relaxed ever so slightly, his heart rate slowing back to normal. “He wasn’t a demon with magical powers that could destroy the entire village with a snap of his fingers from anywhere in the world.” 

“Thankfully no,” Newt agreed. “But is the village currently on fire?” 

Crowley looked out the window, where a dark velvet curtain hung over Tadfield and the stars shone free from smoke. 

“No.” 

“Is Aziraphale safe?” 

“Yes,” he said slowly, grabbing Aziraphale’s hand for extra reassurance. 

“And is Debbie safe?” 

“Yes.” 

“So, logically, so is Adam. Even if you haven’t seen him. He’ll still be there if you want to check up on him in the morning. I doubt that either he or his parents will be very appreciative if you went to wake him up at 2:00AM.”

“It’s 3:00,” Anathema sighed. 

“Damn,” Newt groaned. “Whatever. Point still stands.”

“But it could be a warning,” Crowley said, sitting up a little straighter. “We may need to evacuate the town!” 

“Why would Hastur warn you if he was going to destroy the town?” 

Crowley faltered for a second. “False hope,” he said. “That’s the cruelest thing anyone can do…”

Newt nodded thoughtfully, staring out the window. “Adam would know if danger was coming,” he said decidedly, turning back to face him. 

“How do you know that?” 

“He knew when you two got captured, didn’t he? That’s why he went to California in the first place.” 

Crowley opened and closed his mouth in surprise, trying to find another reason around this, but couldn’t. He slumped back into the couch. 

“So,” Newt continued. “Next time, instead of dashing over here to see for yourself, remember that we logically concluded that if Aziraphale is safe and the town isn’t on fire, everyone else is probably doing alright too, yeah?”

“Yeah…” Crowley said, frowning as he tried to remember what they had just said. 

“Even if you don’t remember all the steps, you only have to check on one person.” 

Aziraphale squeezed his hand comfortingly. 

“Right.” 

Newt removed his glasses, rubbing his eyes wearily. “Now for the love of God get the fuck out of my house so we can go to sleep.” 

“Sorry,” Crowley winced as Aziraphale helped him to his feet. “Th-thank you.” 

“Thank me in the morning,” he mumbled, practically pushing them out the door. 

They scurried out, this time heading home by way of the road, which was a lot less snowy than the fields. 

“Next time,” Aziraphale whispered, hissing painfully with every step. “Could we take the time to grab shoes?” 

“Sorry,” Crowley muttered again, not really noticing the chill as much. His thoughts were elsewhere.

Logically, everything was ok. By the time they got home Crowley had physically relaxed, enough to stop pacing and calmly make himself some tea. The adrenaline had slowed, as had the anxious flow of thoughts that had been almost non-stop the last twenty minutes. But he still wasn’t quiet enough to sleep, and his hand shook almost imperceptibly as he drank the tea. A gentle swell of violin strings interrupted his thoughts. 

“Dance with me?” Aziraphale asked quietly, holding out a hand. Crowley looked at him, a little confused. “We both know you’re not going to sleep any time soon. I figured this might help calm you down.” 

Crowley finished the tea and allowed himself to be led into the living room. It wasn’t much of a dance, but then again, it never was, really. They still didn’t quite have the steps down. It was more of a sway, their bodies so closely pressed together they couldn’t have moved all that much anyway. But it was calming, swaying so close in the warm, cozy living room. And despite everything, it was, Crowley realized with a start, still better than his wildest dreams. It was heaven. Not the Heaven where he had stepped so confidently into the hellfire and glared daggers at Gabriel, but heaven as it should be. His grip on Aziraphale tightened and he buried his face in those soft blonde curls, only this time it wasn’t out of fear.

“Alright, love?”

“Mm,” Crowley sighed contentedly. “Yeah. As long as you’re here I am.” 

…

_One year post Apoca-nope. ___

_ __ _

“You’re too soft on them, angel,” Crowley teased, leaning casually on the shovel. 

Aziraphale shot him a look from where he knelt primly on the gardening pad, attempting to look clean and dignified. He wasn’t as dirt-smeared as Crowley was, but his decidedly darker skin tone was clear evidence that he had been spending much more time outdoors lately. The ground had just started to thaw again, and Crowley had gone out every chance he got. He hated winter, and had been practically itching to get out into the garden again. The indoor greenhouse was nice, but nothing compared to being outdoors in the warm sun and sinking your fingers into the fine dirt. Aziraphale, who had been perfectly content to read books all winter curled by the fire thank you very much, had found it a little lonely once Crowley had devoted most of his time to the garden plans. It had taken all of forty-five minutes to join him, despite his teasing enthusiasm that he’d have time to read more than five minutes at a time without interruptions. 

“Excuse me, who was the gardener for the American Ambassador for eleven years?” 

“You had miracles back then,” Crowley smirked. “Beside that, I had miracles back then.”

Aziraphale gaped in shock. “You didn’t!” 

“Only on occasion,” he promised. “I mostly yelled.” 

“Crowley!” 

Crowley shrugged nonchalantly. “What can I say? It works.”

“I’m sure they will have grown perfectly fine without the yelling.” 

“Yes and how many plants that I’ve given you over the years ever survived more than a month?” 

“That was only because I got caught up in a book and forgot about them.” 

“My point still stands.” 

“Well regardless we have to find a balance,” Aziraphale pointed out. “It’s our garden now.” 

Our garden. Crowley shivered, beaming in delight. Aziraphale shook his head fondly as he stood, stretching his back. 

“You old sap,” he smiled. “Still gets you, doesn’t it?” 

“A little,” Crowley admitted. “Give me a break, angel, it’s not even been a year.”

“I know, I know,” he grinned, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek. “I only say it because you’re no sappier than I am.” 

Crowley was about to come up with some sort of cheeky reply which may have ended in a swift retreat to the bedroom, when they heard footsteps at the gate around the corner. 

“Ah, must be Pepper,” Aziraphale said, dusting his hands off. “She said she would be coming round today. Has a book she wants me to read which sounded quite interesting.”

He started round the corner of the house, Crowley close behind, still formulating a comment, when they practically ran straight into Gabriel and Beelzebub. Aziraphale’s immediate reaction, naturally, was to punch him in the face, knocking him over completely. Crowley’s eyebrows shot up about six inches as he stared at him, both surprised and extremely impressed, and Bee straight up started laughing. Gabriel groaned from the ground. 

“I guess I deserved that,” he sighed, gingerly getting to his feet and maintaining a safe distance away.

“Yes,” Crowley, Aziraphale, and Beelzebub said simultaneously. 

“What are you doing here and how soon can you leave?” Crowley said, still not taking his eyes off Zira. 

“We came,” Bee started, laughter fading as she struggled to get the words out, “to…apologizzze.” 

Crowley turned to face them. “Sorry? Say that again?” 

“Don’t rub it in, this is hard enough as it is,” Gabriel sighed, looking upwards for strength. The sky stared back at him icily. “We were, perhaps, somewhat…harsh on you in the past.” 

“Tiny bit, yeah,” Crowley said. “Can you wait half a second so I can film this?”

“Crowley, be serious,” Azirphale said, nudging him. This of course did absolutely nothing to sober him. 

“You’re the one who just punched him in the face,” he scoffed, though it came out a little more breathless than he had planned. 

“Please flirt later,” Bee sighed. “Michael wants us all to be settled before…Debbie’s birthday party.” 

“Oh, good job, you finally learned her name after a year,” Crowley said sarcastically. 

“Hey, we are trying you know,” Gabriel said, working his jaw tenderly. 

“A good start,” Aziraphale agreed curtly. “But you should know it will take time.” 

Gabriel nodded in acknowledgement. Bee elbowed him harshly. 

“Right. Now apologize.” 

“Why are you so bothered? I already apologized to you.”

“Can’t hear them enough,” she quipped. 

“Fine,” Gabriel sighed. “I’m sorry for stealing your memories. And for taking your divinity.”

“And?” Crowley prompted, resisting the urge to step defensively in front of Zira.

“And for attacking you. Twice.” 

“And?” 

“And…?” Crowley nodded at Aziraphale, glaring pointedly. “Er…and for manipulating you, and intimidating you.” 

“I believe you also have some apologizing to do,” Azirphale said, eyeing Bee. 

She sighed dramatically. “Yeah, yeah, sorry for all the nightmares. And that Hastur is probably still sending them. I’ll see what I can do.” 

Aziraphale nodded, satisfied at the surprisingly genuine apology. “Thank you.”

“What, you forgave her just like that?” Gabriel asked, frankly astonished. “After everything?”

“Our side doesn’t forgive quite so easily,” Aziraphale countered, his eyes cold and calculating. “We work towards it, but it doesn’t come automatically.” 

“With time,” Bee agreed. “Fair enough. Took months with him.” She jerked her thumb unceremoniously at Gabriel, who just stood there awkwardly. 

“I don’t know, it might take years for me,” Crowley practically growled. 

“As long as you’re not constantly trying to kill me, then I’m good.” 

“Right. Now that we have all arrived at a mutual understanding…” Aziraphale pointed helpfully towards the gate. “We have unfinished business to attend to.” 

“Ngk.” 

“Oh I’m sure,” Gabriel sighed, trying not to roll his eyes. 

As soon as they were safely out of sight, Crowley turned toward Zira, the admiration returning to his eyes. 

“You punched him!”

“Yes.”

“In the face!”

“Yes dear, I’m aware.” 

“I’ve never seen you stand up to him like that.” 

“Well I suppose I’ve changed.” His face fell for a second, and he squirmed a little. “Hopefully for the better, yes?” 

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Crowley said, and, unable to hold back any longer, he swooped in, catching him in a deep kiss that ended in both of them pressed against the wall. Aziraphale seemed pleasantly surprised.

"Ah, so you liked that, did you?" he murmured against Crowley's lips. 

"Mmhmm. Doesn't take much from you to turn me on," he managed between fervent kisses down Zira's neck. 

"However did you manage for 6,000 years?" he teased lightly.

Crowley didn't respond, instead forcing his tongue down Zira's throat to thoroughly shut him up except for the deeply appreciatve whines. 

"_Crowley_," he wheezed, pushing back for just a second. "Er...maybe, inside?" __

_ _"God, I thought you'd never ask." _ _

_ _..._ _

_ __ _

_ __ _

“Well that went well, all things considered,” Gabriel said cheerfully. 

“Mmm.”

“Why do you have your scheming face on?” he asked nervously. 

“Don’t worry, I’m not scheming against you. Planning a raid to the Nightmare Division to try and shut it down.” 

“Seriously? You meant that?”

“Duh.” 

“Wow. Ok.”

“Well I am trying. Keep up.” 

“What are you implying?” 

“I’m saying the demon may beat the angel on this new side of ours.” 

“So even on this side we’re against each other?” Gabriel asked, looking very lost.

“No. Just competing,” she said with the faintest hint of a smile. 

“Ah. The usual then.” 

“Preferably without the death, yes.” 

“Fair enough.” 

Anathema came charging down the lane, walking with such definitive purpose that both of them stopped instantly, even though she was still a good ways off. 

“Anathema! Just the person we were coming to see,” Gabriel began, clasping his hands behind his back to hide his nerves. “We were coming to apologize…”

“You know I’ve had a year to reconcile what happened,” she interrupted loudly. “I’ve already forgiven Michael and Dae, I’ve wrapped my head around the concept already. And you know what? I’m ok with all the damage you’ve caused to the world, I can overlook that you took away Az and Crowley’s miracles even though they would have been pretty damn helpful, I can accept that you’re both changing and I can even trust you to protect my child. But the ONE thing that I cannot forgive…” She paused, gasping for breath and gathering her anger. “If you had to make them human, you could have at least done the same thing to the damn auras!” 

Bee and Gabriel blinked at her in surprise. It was definitely not the outburst they had expected. 

“Sorry?” Bee asked. 

“They might be human, but their auras are definitely still ethereal sized,” Anathema huffed, crossing her arms and not able to look at them quite straight on. 

“Oh, you’re one of those people,” Gabriel sighed. “Why does it bother you so much?” 

“Most people’s auras are fine. It’s handy even. BUT NOT ON THEM!” She pointed accusingly in the direction of the cottage. 

Bee turned to follow her gaze, and stepped back in shock. “Ok, I see your problem.” 

“Can you do something?” Anathema begged, suddenly more desperate than angry. “Anything, please!” 

“Erm…I’m not sure there’s anything we can do,” Gabriel said uncomfortably. He looked over for a split second, then immediately away again, shuddering. “May I suggest just not looking?” 

“I CAN’T,” Anathema explained, thoroughly exasperated. “I’ve tried everything. For a _year_. Nothing works.” __

_ _“Have you asked Michael?” he asked, still grimacing. _ _

_ _“She’s already tried.” _ _

_ _“In that case I doubt I can help either…” _ _

_ _“In that case I’m moving,” she groaned. _ _

_ _“Weren’t you the one who invited them to move here?” Bee pointed out._ _

_ _“Weren’t you the one who tried to kidnap my baby and raise her in hell?” _ _

_ _“Hey we were on our way to say sorry,” Gabriel said, holding up his hands defensively. _ _

_ _“Whatever,” she snapped. “Party’s at 3:00 tomorrow, don’t forget.” _ _

_ _“We’ll…be there,” Bee said, confused. _ _

_ _They watched as she raced back to Jasmine Cottage, then turned to each other in bewilderment._ _

_ _“So…have we been accepted, or what?” Gabriel asked. _ _

_ _“I’m not sure. I don’t think I’ll ever understand humans.” _ _

_ _“Are we counting Aziraphale and Crowley in this as well?” _ _

_ _“Yup.” _ _

_ _“Then yeah, me neither.”_ _


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Depression hit hard this past week but I finally was able to get this chapter finished! My goal is to get this finished by the end of the month so I can do NaNoWriMo. Then in December I'll try to pump out my many, many one-shots that I have lying around, and in January I'll start working on one of my other AUs. Anyway, there'll probably be two more chapters with short pieces, and then the final battle. Hehe. 
> 
> Unfortunately, formatting is being a bitch so I'm sorry if things look weird. I don't have time to fix it tonight.
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me so far. Hope you're still enjoying it.

_Eighteen Months Post Apoca-nope._

Having a former archangel and a former Lord of Hell moving into Tadfield certainly took a lot of getting used. Michael and Dae visited often, of course, but they usually had other business to attend to, like helping all the angels and former-demons acclimate to their new side. But Gabriel and Beelzebub, on the other hand, insisted on living nearby, and actually bought a house in an attempt to learn human ways. Bee said that Hell would most likely leave Debbie alone until her 11th birthday, then come to claim her for her destiny. 

(“Why is it always 11?” Adam asked in exasperation. “Like, Harry Potter and Percy Jackson. Seriously, we’re just kids. Why do people think we can save the world?” 

“It’s worse than the spell/curse ending at midnight,” Crowley agreed.

“Dear, you literally invented that cliche.”)

The five of them, Adam, Beelzebub, Gabriel, Aziraphale, and Crowley, had agreed to head up the new side. They called themselves Adam’s Army. Not Heaven, not Hell. Different from both and very much lead by human standards. They met fairly often, trying to stay on top of developments from Hell, though it was strangely quiet at the moment. Bee said they must have been in disarray with half their original forces gone and several new faces appearing. She and Dae did in fact raid the Nightmare Division, permanently deleting millions of files and thousands of dollars worth of equipment. With the limited and backwards knowledge of technology that Hastur possessed, it would take months, if not years before they could get it up and running again. As actions of “hey I’m sorry and I’ve changed please trust me again” go, it wasn’t half bad, and Crowley was grudgingly appreciative. 

The Them helped bridge the gap the most. They were only twelve, after all, full of hope and innocence and forgiveness like no other time in life. It was astonishingly easy for their brains to make the switch from “Let me kill you with a holy water gun,” to “wait, you like chess? Let’s play sometime!” and from “I will kick your shins if you’re mean to Aziraphale again,” to “what do you mean you’ve never heard of fish and chips!?!!!?? Come on, we’re going to Donnie’s pub right now, who cares if I just ate!” As the children accepted them, so did the adults. 

The moment they realized just how successful Adam’s plan had been came about six months after their arrival, on a rainy afternoon in September. Aziraphale was currently deep in a new book that Pepper had recommended, “Most Ardently,” a modern retelling of Pride and Prejudice. He usually steered away from the newer, more modern works, and he especially despised retellings, but she had been most insistent. And despite himself, he really was enjoying it, snickering quietly at all of the Jane Austen references. And he appreciated the creative licensing the author had taken with the characters’ gender and sexualities, which was a definite improvement from the original. Crowley, meanwhile, was sitting upside down on the couch next to him and trying to work out a sudoku puzzle while waiting for him to finish. There was a sudden flash of electricity outside the door, followed by insistent pounding. 

“Come in!” Crowley yelled, not bothering to move. 

Bee practically broke down the door, but at least she had knocked this time. She had quite learned her lesson about popping in unexpectedly in the middle of the room. Aziraphale looked up questioningly, somewhat miffed about being interrupted with his reading but no longer surprised or startled at her sudden entrances.

“When the FUCK were you going to tell me about this whole nonbinary thing????” Bee yelled. 

She had cleaned up nicely, once she’d been introduced to modern hygiene and actually cared to look nice again. Her hair still hung short and straight around her face, though it was no longer greasy and looked like it would fall out if you breathed against it. Her skin was still pale, but the boils were gone and flies no longer orbited around her every step. She still didn’t smile much and preferred a more sarcastic sense of humor, but she was much more relaxed than she had been two years ago. 

“Excuse me, I have literally tangoed into Hell wearing a salsa dress!” Crowley replied indignantly. “I have never followed human gender norms, did you not notice?” 

“I just thought that was for a temptation,” she huffed, crossing her arms. 

“I mean…” he glanced at Aziraphale. “It kind of was.” 

“I don’t remember that at all,” Aziraphale frowned, trying to recall. “Although it certainly sounds interesting.” The sudoku book landed on Crowley’s face, and Zira turned innocently to Bee. “So, my dear, would you rather be called they/them now?” 

Bee blinked, slightly taken aback, but only hesitated for a moment. “Yes,” they said, a small hint of a smile flickering across their face. 

There was another zap of lightening, and they disappeared as quickly as they had come. Aziraphale chuckled to himself quietly. 

“What?” Crowley asked, shaking off the sudoku book. 

“If you had told me a year ago that would happen, I don’t think I would have believed you,” Zira said cheerfully. “We’ve certainly come a long way.” 

“Yeah. Suppose so.”

“Now, dear, about that salsa dress?” 

Crowley practically flipped off the couch, making a running dash for the door. “Brb!” 

Aziraphale smiled to himself and settled deeper into the chair. While the temptation of Crowley in a salsa dress was certainly exciting, so was his book. With Crowley out dress hunting, he would have the peace and quiet for a while to hopefully finish. He drew up the tartan blanket a little snugger and returned to the book. Things were getting quite interesting between Elisa and Miss Darcy...

…

_Two years post No-pocalypse._

Aziraphale felt the cold breeze long before he got to the cottage. It was rather nice, given the incredibly hot summer they’d been having. He didn’t think anything was wrong until Adam and Dog raced by on his bike, skidding to a halt in front of him. The thirteen year old looked back at him worriedly. 

“Did Crowley not call you?” he asked, voice breaking on “call.” Apparently even antichrists couldn’t make puberty an easy transition. 

“No? Should he?” Aziraphale asked, growing concerned. He’d left Crowley babysitting Debbie an hour ago, and everything was fine. 

He shifted the groceries in his hand and pulled the barely-used mobile from his pocket. There were five missed calls from Crowley, plus a few texts.

WHERE ARE YOU???

COME HOME NOW!!!

ANSWER YOUR PHONE, DAMN IT!

NOT KIDDING I NEED HELP!

“Oh dear…”

Adam put the groceries in his bike basket. “Climb on.” 

“What?” 

“The back of my bike, come on!” 

“This is not a good idea,” he moaned even as he climbed onto the bike. 

Both of them stood precariously as the bike drifted downhill toward the little cottage. The closer they got, the colder the air around them became. It quickly became clear that this was no ordinary cool summer breeze. Aziraphale jumped off the bike before they reached the house and ran inside. 

“Crowley!” he called. “Is everything all…good Lord.” 

The entire house was filled with snow drifts, floor to ceiling, and the stairs had been made into an ice slide. Crowley sat four feet above where the couch should have been, wrapped in a blanket and shaking almost violently, his nose as red as his hair. 

“I made a terrible mistake…” he said, teeth chattering. 

“What happened?” Adam asked, looking around in amazement. 

“What do you think?” he sighed. “We watched Frozen.” 

“LET IT GO! LET IT GO!” Debbie sang at the top of her lungs as she slid head first down the stairs and into a snow drift. She stopped as soon as she saw Aziraphale. “Uncle Azi!!” she screamed cheerfully, running to her godfather. 

Aziraphale picked her up protectively. “Hello, dear. Did you enjoy the movie?” 

“Yeah, no shit Sherlock!” Crowley snapped. 

“Language!” he admonished. He turned back to Debbie. “Look, Debbie. I know you’re having fun, but we can’t…”

“Elsa!” 

“What?”

“I’m Elsa!” she repeated emphatically, pointing at herself. On cue, her hair brightened from a deep brown to bright white. 

And now she can shape-shift. Perfect, just what we need. “Yes, alright. But we can’t have snow in the house. Look at how cold uncle Crowley is.” 

Adam melted the snow, sending Crowley dropping to the couch with a rather undignified squeal. A nice fire appeared crackling in the fireplace and the groceries all went to their appointed spots. The movie was still playing on the TV. 

“Nooo!” Debbie wailed. “Bring back the snow!” 

“Yes but if you do that, then we’ll hurt Queenie,” Adam said quickly, knowing how much Debbie loved the duck. 

She went quiet at that, but still sulked. 

“Oh, sure, that’s what she’ll respond to,” Crowley groaned, shifting closer to the fire. 

Dick Turpin skidded up to the door and Anathema and Newt ran out worriedly. 

“Is everything ok? We got here as quick as we could,” Newt said. 

“Daddy, mommy, look!” Debbie said, brightening. “I’m Elsa!” 

She held out her palm and made a cartoonish looking snowflake hover a few inches above it. Anathema’s eyes widened in shock.

“That’s great dear, but let’s not do it inside again, ok?” Newt said as he took her from Aziraphale’s arms. 

“Or in the summer,” Anathema said. “Why don’t you get her in the car,” she added quietly to Newt, who nodded. 

“Why are you telling her she can do it at all?” Adam asked, horrified. 

“Because by winter she’ll have forgotten all about it,” Anathema said. “Hopefully.” She peered into the living room at Crowley. “How ya doing in there?” He gave her a rather feeble thumbs up. “Right. We’ll let you take care of him. And from now on, no more movies about magic. Or books when she reaches that point.”

“You have to tell her,” Aziraphale said quietly. 

“Yes, but not yet, she’s too young,” Anathema said desperately. 

She had made it adamantly clear to everyone very early on that they weren’t going to tell Debbie she was an antichrist until she was a little older. Adam had pointed out that he would have liked a little more warning to grapple with his own new identity, and on that point Anathema had agreed. But she also wanted Debbie to have at least a fairly normal childhood for the first few years, without the pressure of saving the world or prophecies telling her what to do or who to sleep with. 

“Someone is going to get hurt,” Aziraphale whispered intensely. 

“She’s a toddler!” 

“She needs to know not to think of things too strongly, or else her powers will get even stronger. Plus, she just changed her appearance! She could disappear in a new body and we wouldn’t even know what she looked like! What if Hell finds her then, hmm?” 

“She’s two, Aziraphale. TWO. She can’t even begin to understand this, let alone control it!” 

“I know, I know. It’s just something to think about. We might need to tell her sooner rather than later.” 

Anathema started to reply, but then the screen over his shoulder caught his attention. It was nearing the end of the movie, and Elsa was in chains, crying alone in the dungeon. Adam quickly turned it off without even blinking, but it was too late. She collapsed into Aziraphale’s arms, sobbing. 

“There there,” he said quietly, rubbing her back gently.

“I don’t want her to be a pawn,” she cried. 

“She’s not. That’s exactly why we’re all here. We’ll help her. We’ll protect her.” 

“I turned out fine,” Adam added awkwardly, slightly afraid she’d fling herself on him next. 

“I know, I know,” she sighed, wiping her eyes and trying to collect herself. “I just…I just wish that for once we could be normal.” 

“I’m afraid we all passed that option a long time ago,” Aziraphale said sympathetically. 

Anathema sniffed and wearily made her way back to the car. Debbie’s hair had gone back to it’s natural color, and she looked incredibly somber for a two-year-old. 

“I’m sawry, mommy,” she whispered quietly. “I don’t want you to cry.” 

“It’s alright, I’m not upset at you,” she promised, smiling at her daughter in the mirror. 

“I won’t be Elsa anymore.” 

“That’s good,” Newt said. “I like you just the way are.” 

…

Aziraphale climbed next to Crowley on the couch. He was still shivering. 

“Issa stupid movie anyway,” he growled. 

“How many times did you see the sequel again?” Aziraphale said, kissing the skin just behind his ear. 

“Shh-shut up! Don’t tease, I’m freezzzing.” 

“I’m sorry, dear.” He moved down Crowley’s jawline. “Can I warm you up?” 

“‘M not in the mood.” 

“I meant nothing of the sort,” he said innocently, plastering kisses all over his face. 

“What are you doing?” Crowley asked, smiling in spite of himself as he squirmed out of reach.

“I missed you.”

“You were only gone for an hour!”

“I know.” 

Crowley leaned a little too far, and suddenly they were a laughing pile of limbs on the floor.

“Did you always miss me that soon?” he grinned. 

“Every second of every day,” Zira teased, flicking his tongue against Crowley’s ear. 

Crowley shuddered. “Shit,” he hissed. He was suddenly feeling plenty warm, and looked up wide-eyed. 

“Ah, so you liked that, did you? That’s new. Still not in a good mood?” 

"You have a way of turning me around pretty quickly," Crowley breathed, pulling him in for a proper kiss.

…

_OMG go on a fucking honeymoon already!_

Crowley stared at the text from Anathema in confusion. He could hear Aziraphale shuffling about in the next room, probably making tea or snacks of some sort. For once, he was glad that he wasn’t also in the room. He wasn’t quite sure when it had come in. He hadn’t heard the notification, although, granted, he hadn’t heard much of anything recently. Probably due to Zira’s head between his legs. It was quite distracting. 

_But we’re not married???_ he texted back quickly, hoping it came across casual, although he felt anything but. __

He tried not to think about the ring he’d hidden away. He’d bought it on impulse, really. Just passing by an antique store and he just saw it, and it looked so perfect. A tiny little black snake that curled round the finger. God only knew when he would use it though. He knew it was going too fast. He could tell by Zira’s reactions, first to the bluff at the apocalypse, then at Newt and Anathema’s wedding, and anytime marriage, proposals etc. were brought up in passing. 

_”You go too fast for me, Crowley.”_

Did it even still apply? He wasn’t sure. So he’d hidden it in a little crevice under the mini-waterfall, with Queenie keeping a close guard. Better play it safe, as usual. 

Just like he did for 6,000 years. 

Only now they didn’t have 6,000 years to spare. There was no patience while mortal, and it was killing him. 

_It doesn’t matter_, Anathema texted back. __

YES IT DOES Crowley wanted to scream. 

_Look, you’re still in the honeymoon stage of your relationship, no matter how you want to define it, I don’t care._

I care, Crowley thought miserably. 

_Just go away for the summer. Take a holiday to the Swiss Alps. Go skiing. Let Az read a book by the fire. Have sex a million times, I don’t care. Just give me a break, please. I’m begging you._

_What do you mean, break?_

_I can see your fucking auras, you idiot!_

_You…what??_

_And yes, I mean that in every sense of the word._

_Shit._

_Look, I’m not telling you how to run your life and I’m certainly not telling you to stop. I’m just saying, either YOU go on vacation, of I WILL._

It sounded fun, taking a trip together. And it certainly wasn’t the last time it had crossed his mind either. But…then again, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to handle it. It was almost too romantic. 

_Have fun then._

Anathema frowned at the phone. 

“Everything alright?” Newt asked. 

“I’m not sure,” she said, biting her lip worriedly and glancing across the field. Then she raised her eyes heavenward, questioning. “What are we going to do about these two?” she sighed.

...

_3.5 years post No-pocalypse._

It was supposed to be the biggest meteor shower since the Leonids in 1833, and the world was ready for it. England had issued a mandatory decree for all the lights to be turned out across the whole country, and flights were being rescheduled. Most of Europe was following suit. Crowley was ecstatic. The sky hadn’t been that clear and dark for centuries. This was how a meteor shower was supposed to be, and he should know, since he’d created them. 

“C’mon, angel, hurry up!” he called, leaning against the Bentley impatiently. 

“Relax, we still have time,” Zira said, locking the door behind him. “It’s only an hour’s drive.” 

The others were were gathering in Tadfield’s main square. But Crowley refused to watch it with the humans. They didn’t appreciate it like he did. Aziraphale carefully tucked the picnic basket into the back seat and climbed into the passenger seat. Crowley sped off before he had even fastened his seat belt, eager to get going. They raced perilously through the countryside, heading deep into the emptiness where no-one had settled down yet. 

“Please slow down!” Aziraphale implored. 

“I don’t want to miss a second!”

“Yes, well, you’ll miss all of it if you get us discor…killed.” 

“Relax, Zira, I’m a perfectly safe driver.” 

They arrived at their destination by sunset, fifteen minutes early and in one piece, though Aziraphale’s heart threatened to beat out of his rib cage. There was cheese and wine and some delicious little tarts that Tracy had showed them how to make. It was a glorious September sunset, golden hues painted against the darkening sky. Aziraphale leaned against Crowley contentedly. 

“I always did think sunsets were some of her best works,” he sighed dreamily. 

“I always thought you were,” Crowley countered smoothly. 

Aziraphale nudged him playfully, blushing almost as red as the sun itself. 

“Do you remember the Leonids, the one they keep talking about?” Aziraphale asked. 

“Of course I do. I remember all of them.”

“I think I was in Scotland at the time. Got to watch them from the moors. Where did you see them?” 

“I was up there with them,” Crowley sighed, the ghosts of his wings aching to fly again. “But I almost joined you in Scotland.” 

“Why didn’t you?”

“Too romantic,” Crowley sighed. “I was afraid I would do something stupid.”

“You should have.” 

“Well…it was also right before the Holy Water incident.” 

Aziraphale was silent for a moment. “Well, we’ll watch this one together at least.” 

The world grew dark, and the lights of England were switched off. 

And then the stars fell. 

Crowley couldn’t contain his gasp of pure delight as magic rained on the world. There were so many at once that it was impossible to miss. Aziraphale turned to watch him. This, Crowley’s joy in watching creation, was quite possibly the most beautiful he’d ever seen him. 

“You’re missing the view, angel,” he grinned, eyeing him sideways.

“I already have the best view, thank you,” he smiled softly. Besides, he could still see some of the meteors falling around Crowley’s silhouette. 

“Ngk.” Crowley’s eyes suddenly went wide, and his jaw dropped in astonishment. 

Aziraphale turned, following his gaze and quickly copying his amazement. Some of the stars started shining brighter than the rest. And they spelled out, exceptionally clearly, four distinct words. 

_Will you marry me?___

_ _Crowley forgot how to breathe. And think. And speak. _ _

_ _Until he realized that an answer was required. _ _

_ _Then he managed to squeak out “Yes!” _ _

_ _Unfortunately, this was the same time Aziraphale also managed to collect himself. He said yes at the exact same time, and didn’t hear Crowley. _ _

_ _“Yes! Oh, darling, six thousand times yes!” he gushed excitedly. Crowley blinked. “Oh, if I had guessed I would have brought the ring with me, but I never thought…I didn’t think you had any interest in it since you kept freaking out and brushing the concept aside and…why are you staring at me?” _ _

_ _“You said yes,” Crowley said dumbly. _ _

_ _“Well, you asked,” Zira pointed at the sky. _ _

_ _“No I didn’t. That was you.” _ _

_ _“No it wasn’t.” _ _

_ _They frowned slightly. Looking up at the message in the stars. _ _

_ _“Is it even for us?” Crowley asked._ _

_ _“Well who else could it be for? I thought you must have asked Adam to do it,” Aziraphale said. _ _

_ _“Hang on, did you say you had a ring?” Crowley asked suddenly as his brain caught up to him. _ _

_ _“Erm…” Even in the dark he could tell Zira was blushing. “Yes?” _ _

_ _“For how long?” _ _

_ _“Since Anathema’s wedding.”_ _

_ _“Since Anathema’s…why didn’t you say anything?” _ _

_ _“I just said! I thought it was too human for you. Why didn’t _you_ say anything?” ___ _

_ _ _ _“I didn’t want to go too fast,” Crowley protested. “I only got your ring on a whim, I was saving it…”_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“You got a ring for me?” Aziraphale asked, voice softening. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Yes, well, ngk, of course I did!” Crowley stammered. “It was a little…”_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _The air hummed with ethereal electricity and smelled like sweet vanilla and freshly white linen. Both of them instinctively looked toward the basket. Slowly, Aziraphale opened it and pulled out the two ring boxes. They looked back at the sky. There was a slightly different message now.____

_ _ __ _ _

_ _ _ _Get your shit together already._  
_ _ _

“Do you suppose we’ll have to send Her an invitation?” Aziraphale asked, rather at a loss for words. It was the first thing he thought of. 

_ _ _ _ _ _“How do you even mail an invitation to Heaven?” _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Gabriel could deliver it I suppose.” _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Do you think She’d even come?” Crowley asked. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“She’s been on our side for a lot longer than we think, probably. She’s…oh, what did Pepper call it…She’s a shipper.” _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Crowley took one of the ring boxes. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Hey!” _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Well you can’t give both of them, angel. This one’s mine to give.”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“You mean you still want…”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“It doesn’t matter that She asked for us. God, angel, I would have married you the next day if Heaven and Hell hadn’t shown up.” _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Aziraphale was on top of Crowley in 0.00025 seconds flat, knocking him over onto the picnic blanket. The rings lay momentarily forgotten, although I think that is perfectly resonable, don't you? After all, they'd waited 6,000 years for this moment. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _…_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Hey, random question,” Anathema said suddenly, disrupting the quiet splendor of the evening. “Was there supposed to be an aurora borealis this evening, and can anyone else see it?” _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“No,” Wensleydale said, confused. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Ah. Well, in that case, Crowley and Aziraphale must be engaged.” _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _There was stir among the group, everyone clamoring with questions. Newt managed to calm them all down. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“How do you know?” Tracy asked breathlessly. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Because I literally can’t see anything _other_ than their auras.” ___ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“You can see that all the way from here?” Shadwell asked, horrified. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Yup.” _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“You gotta be right,” Bee said, shielding their eyes and staring pointedly at the ground. “It’s even bigger than when we found them the first time.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so about the Beelzebub bit. When I originally started writing I didn't realize they were mostly considered nonbinary by the rest of the fandom, so I just went with the she pronouns. When I did realize it, I knew I wanted to correct it but didn't really want to go back and simply change it. Then I read another fic where they go to Pride for the first time and realize that nonbinary was a term, AND IT WAS SO FREAKIN' CUTE I LOVED IT!! (I didn't save it, unfortunately, so I have no idea how to find it again.) I decided I wanted to do something similar, and figured it'd help bridge the gap from demon to Adam's Army. 
> 
> ALSO!! Most Ardently is a real book by Susan Mesler-Evans, a re-telling of Pride and Prejudice in modern times with a POC cast and THEY’RE LESBIANS. Need I say more? I read it in two days and loved every word! Here's a link to the kindle version: https://www.amazon.com/Most-Ardently-Susan-Mesler-Evans-ebook/dp/B07Y73KRF6


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...I've sort of figured out how to use the italics function in HTML. But it only works sometimes??? So I don't even know anymore. I tried to get the music to be italicizied but after two tries ONLY ONE CHORUS worked and it wasn't even the one I wanted!!! Oh well. Ya'll are smart, you know what's going on.

Technically, Anathema won the bet, as her original guess of 2 years was the closest to the actual time frame. But because it had taken nearly 3 years, the Them cajoled her into giving in. And since neither of them had technically proposed, the second half of the bet was dropped as well. The Them were rather disappointed as this turn of events, but that was quickly dropped in the preparations for the wedding, which was to be the following week. Tracy asked if they didn’t want to take more time in the planning, but when you’d been pining for 6,000 years and only had 8ish years left in the world, nobody was really in the mood for waiting anymore.

They were married under the stars, in the field between their home and Jasmine Cottage. About 90% of the guests were ex-Demons and ex-Angels, who had either been following their story for a couple of centuries (in the Demons’ case), old friends from before the Fall, or just curious (which was most of the Angels). Ms. Flora and the Them’s parents were also there, happily supporting their eccentric neighbors, with the added benefit of spiting R.P. Tyler. He had not been happy when he heard the news, going on about the old days, but Ms. Flora beat him with a rolled up newspaper and told him to grow up. 

Shadwell played the bagpipes, much to everyone’s amusement. The Angels and Demons, having little to no experience with earthly music, thought it was wonderfully moving, but the Them’s parents had to fight fits of giggles. Although it wasn’t quite as bad as Ross from Friends, it was still less than desirable, and Adam had to lend a hand. 

Madame Tracy eagerly stepped into the role of Maid of Honor, though technically she should have been considered matron. Adam was the Best Man, though mostly to convince Dog, who was the ring-bearer, to come down the aisle, which he did proudly, head held high. Michael was the officiant and Debbie was indeed the flower girl, although she didn’t not need a wagon. The flowers she threw went farther than her little arms could have actually thrown, hovering over the people’s heads because that’s what she believed would happen. 

Crowley wore a tulle wedding dress and Aziraphale cried. Crowley did his best to maintain his cool composure, but he also lost it somewhere along the way. Despite his vehement denials, Aziraphale swore he had also started crying before he got all the way down the aisle. 

The Ritz, through some divine miracle, catered. There was lots of dancing (whereupon Crowley switched to a suit for the reception), mainly gavottes but a good number of slow dances and nearly all of Queen, except for “These Are The Days Of Our Lives” and “Too Much Love Will Kill You,” because they made Crowley cry. Adam and Anathema also rounded up some very ironic songs like “Heaven is a Place on Earth” and “From Eden.” The first dance, naturally, was to Somebody to Love.

It was the first time most of the angels in attendance had the opportunity to dance, which was quite amusing to watch them get used to. Gabriel, in an attempt to be helpful, had tried to navigate YouTube to find out what was popular dancing music. Between him and the ex-Demons’ disco, the Them spent more time laughing than dancing. 

There was only one who didn’t dance, a trite more somber than the rest, watching quietly from the shadows. Laughter and joy seemed to increase wherever they looked. Debbie, playing quietly with the bouquet, was the only one to notice. She got up immediately and ran over, silently handing over the flowers as she smiled innocently. 

God accepted the flowers, and smiled back. 

…

_Four years post Armageddidn’t._

Bee scowled at their wrist, the blinking red lights mocking in the dim light. Adam had wanted to play laser tag for his 16th birthday, and while this idea had been greeted with much enthusiasm, the odds had rather been stacked in Adam’s team’s favor. 

“We’re losing,” they said bitterly. 

“We don’t know that for sure,” Aziraphale whispered optimistically from the other side of the column as he tried to catch his breath. 

“No, they’re right,” Newt said dejectedly. “Adam’s got a better team. Seriously, how’d they get Gabriel, Crowley, _and_ Michael?” __

_ _“Oh, don’t be so hard on yourself,” Aziraphale said eagerly, eyes wide in excitement. “Besides, this is fun!” _ _

_ _“Yes, but we have to beat them!” Bee said sternly. _ _

_ _“Why?”_ _

_ _“Because that’s the point in teams.”_ _

_ _“Are you just trying to beat Gabriel?” Newt asked. _ _

_ _“That’s an added bonus.” _ _

_ _“Guys!” Pepper hissed, running back with Brian and Dae from an offensive operation. “I just had an idea. We need a distraction.” _ _

_ _“It’s laser tag, it’s not like we have any grenades,” Bee said. _ _

_ _“I mean, we could make some…” Dae suggested. _ _

_ _“No,” Newt and Aziraphale hissed. _ _

_ _“We don’t need grenades,” Pepper grinned. “Look, Gabriel and Crowley are the ones causing the most damage. We need to take them out for a few seconds, then we can ambush the others.” _ _

_ _“And how are we supposed to do that?” Aziraphale asked. _ _

_ _Pepper pointed at both Aziraphale and Bee. “We have you two.” _ _

_ _Bee grinned. “Oooh, that is brutal. I like it.” _ _

_ _“I could do it with Anathema, too!” Newt said helpfully. _ _

_ _The others looked at him skeptically. _ _

_ _“Nah, she’d get you instead of the other way ‘round,” Dae said sympathetically. _ _

_ _“What do you think, Az?” Pepper asked, turning to face him. _ _

_ _Aziraphale was already gone. _ _

_ _He crept along the outskirts of the room, staying low as he made his way to the last place he’d seen Crowley. He could hear him panting on the other side of the column and waited silently, gun relaxed at his side but ready at a moment’s notice. _ _

_ _“Is that you, angel?” Crowley whispered. _ _

_ _“How’d you know?”_ _

_ _“I know your footsteps.” _ _

_ _Aziraphale could hear the smile in his voice, and slipped one hand around the column. Crowley took it amiably. _ _

_ _“I don’t like being on opposite sides,” Aziraphale sighed dramatically. _ _

_ _“Just a game,” Crowley promised, squeezing his hand. _ _

_ _“As long as you don’t make me sleep on the couch if I win,” Zira teased. _ _

_ _Crowley laughed quietly. “I think I’m the one that’s winning, husband.” _ _

_ _“Of course you are. You’ve won me.” _ _

_ _Aziraphale spun around, pinning Crowley up against the column and kissing him before he knew what had happened. Crowley, a bit surprised but non-resistant, leaned in affectionately. Without thinking, he dropped his gun and started running his hands through Zira’s curls. _ _

_ _“YOU LITTLE BITCH!” Gabriel yelled from the other side of the room. _ _

_ _Crowley’s eyes flew open, and he fumbled for his gun. Aziraphale was faster. He smiled innocently as the lights on Crowley’s vest went dark, and the trigger moved uselessly. Crowley’s jaw dropped in a look of utter betrayal. _ _

_ _“Oh, you’re definitely on the couch tonight,” he spluttered. _ _

_ _“On the contrary, my dear,” Aziraphale called over his shoulder as he ran off, “I think after that move we’ll both definitely be in the same bed.” _ _

_ _“Ngk.” _ _

_ _Aziraphale and Bee skidded back to their stronghold at the same moment, high-fiving without even looking at each other. Brian grinned. _ _

_ _“I’m guessing it worked?” _ _

_ _“Beautifully,” Bee said. _ _

_ _“If I had known that, I would have gotten on the opposite team as Pepper,” he sighed, peering out into the darkness where she had gone. _ _

_ _“Yes but then you never would have heard the idea,” Bee said, somewhat confused. _ _

_ _Aziraphale elbowed them to shut up. _ _

_ _“You’ll get your chance, Brian, don’t worry.” _ _

_ _“Anathema said she’s not really into anybody yet,” he said glumly. _ _

_ _“Give her time,” Aziraphale said gently. “You’re only 16.” _ _

_ _“Yeah, but we’ve only got a few years left.” _ _

_ _“Tell you what, why don’t you come to the house later…er, maybe not today, but another time, and maybe Crowley can teach you some tricks.” _ _

_ _“Well I doubt she’ll be locked up in the Bastille and I’ll have to go rescue her,” Brian sighed. _ _

_ _“No, but perhaps we can come up with some ideas.” _ _

_ _Brian smiled hopefully as the others came rushing back. “Thanks.” _ _

_ _“I think we definitely have the lead now!” Pepper said laughing. “Well done, guys!” _ _

_ _…_ _

_ _“Hola, Mama,” Anathema sighed into the phone as she leaned heavily against the table. _ _

_ _Debbie ran over from the living room, where a leaning tower of blocks was suspiciously defying the laws of physics. _ _

_ _“I wanna talk to grandma!” _ _

_ _“In a minute, honey, I have a question for her first.” _ _

_ _Debbie frowned but ran obediently back to the living room, brushing against the tower as she went. It stayed standing solid, as if it were made of concrete. _ _

_ _“What’s troubling you, mija? Did you lose at that laser game? ” _ _

_ _“Is there any way to turn off auras?” Anathema groaned, ignoring the fact that they had lost thanks to Pepper's dirty trick. _ _

_ _“You want to stop seeing auras?” her mother replied, shocked. _ _

_ _“Or can another person turn theirs invisible? Anything?” _ _

_ _“I don’t think so. But why would you not want to see auras?” _ _

_ _“Because it’s 2:00 o’clock in the afternoon and the neighbors are…” she stopped, eyeing Debbie in the next room. “_Jodiendo._ I can tell exactly what they’re doing,” she finished, exasperated. “Even if I’m trying not to focus on it. It’s worse than Adam having no aura.” _ _ __

__

__

_ _“I’m sorry, Ana, I don’t think it’s possible. Try to distract yourself, ok?” _ _

_ _“Five years, mama! I’ve tried everything!” _ _

_ _“Then there is nothing. I’m sorry, sweetheart.” _ _

_ _Debbie tugged on her dress. “Can we watch Dora?” she asked. _ _

_ _“You know what, sure. I don’t even care anymore. Even that’s better than…” she gestured vaguely toward Crowley and Aziraphale’s cottage. “Talk to you later, Mama.” _ _

_ _…_ _

_ _Crowley stared at the four teenagers standing innocently in front of him. He was not liking this idea._ _

_ _“I can always miracle it back together if something happens,” Adam offered. _ _

_ _“Which it won’t,” Wensleydale promised. “We’ll be very careful.” _ _

_ _“And you’ll be there the whole time,” Brian pointed out. _ _

_ _“Yes, but why do you even want to do it this way?” Crowley asked. _ _

_ _“Because it’s cool,” Pepper said like it was obvious._ _

_ _“It’s old.”_ _

_ _“Exactly.” _ _

_ _“Which means it’ll be harder.” _ _

_ _“So if we learn this, then we can handle anything,” Wensley shrugged. _ _

_ _“Do your parents know about this?” Aziraphale asked uncertainly._ _

_ _“Yeah,” the four said in unison. _ _

_ _“And why are they ok with it?” _ _

_ _“Because they like you,” Adam said. “And if you don’t do it, then they will, and that scares them.” _ _

_ _“Or we’ll have to do it with R.P. Tyler,” Brian groaned. “And that’s even worse!” _ _

_ _“If he sees us, he’ll throw a fit,” Pepper said pointedly. _ _

_ _Crowley chewed on his bottom lip. He did like messing with Tyler. _ _

_ _“Have you ever seen him drive?” Aziraphale asked. “I’m not sure he’s the best teacher.”_ _

_ _“Oi!’ Crowley turned indignantly. “I’m a perfectly good teacher, thank you very much.” He opened the driver’s side door. “Get in, Adam.” _ _

_ _“Well I’m having nothing to do with it!” Aziraphale said, turning and marching back indoors. “Just come back in one piece, alright?”_ _

_ _“Technically, a corpse is one piece,” Wensley said cheerfully. _ _

_ _Aziraphale scowled over his shoulder. “Alive. Come back alive, car or no car.”_ _

_ _“We’ll come back with the car,” Crowley said firmly. _ _

_ _“I don’t care about the car, I care about you.” _ _

_ _“Aww, thanks angel. Did you hear that? He cares about me.” _ _

_ _“You’re married,” Pepper said, rolling her eyes. _ _

_ _“I know, but still.” _ _

_ _“We know about that. What we want to know is how to drive,” Brian said. _ _

_ _“Right. Let’s get started then.” _ _

_ _He gave them a quick one-over of the basics, then instructed Adam to SLOWLY drive out of town. _ _

_ _“Can’t we freak out Tyler first?” Brian asked. _ _

_ _“After you get the hang of it, yes,” Crowley promised. “But a nice long stretch of country road is better to start off with.” _ _

_ _Adam learned quickly, and within 10 minutes he was confidently driving down the lane, grinning ear to ear as they picked up speed. Pepper and Wensley rolled the back windows down and leaned into the wind. It was a beautiful fall afternoon; the leaves were just starting to change colors. _ _

_ _“Is this why people are always wanting to take a drive?” Wensley called. _ _

_ _“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Crowley yelled, smiling. _ _

_ _“It feels very freeing,” Adam said, pushing down a little harder on the gas. _ _

_ _“Oi, watch the turn!” Crowley said suddenly. _ _

_ _Adam took his foot off the gas, letting them coast. _ _

_ _“No, you’ve gotta slow down!”_ _

_ _Adam hit the breaks, but it wasn’t quite enough. The car swerved round the corner, tilting over to the side and catching air with the right tires. Crowley braced himself on the seat and closed his eyes. It was only with the help of a quick miracle they didn’t overturn all the way, and all four tires landed safely on the ground. _ _

_ _“Er…sorry,” Adam grimaced, easing into it again. “Got a bit excited.” _ _

_ _“Iss alright,” Crowley said, somewhat shaken. “Just…take it easy.” _ _

_ _Brian felt his hand warm and realized he had accidentally grabbed hold of Pepper in their panic. Blushing, he started to pull away. _ _

_ _“Sorry,” he murmured. _ _

_ _Pepper gripped it tighter and looked him dead in the eye. “Why?” _ _

_ _Brian blinked in surprise. “I…uh, well…I guess not then.”_ _

_ _“No,” Pepper agreed, facing forward again to watch Adam shift gears. “You go next, Wensley.” _ _

_ _“Well alright then,” he said, smirking at Brian. He knew better than to argue with Pepper. _ _

_ _Wensley never went over 30 kilometers an hour. Even Crowley got frustrated._ _

_ _“You can go faster, you know. You’re wayyy under the speed limit.” _ _

_ _“Yes but I don’t have powers like Adam.” _ _

_ _“You don’t need powers to go over 30 kilometers!” _ _

_ _“I’m learning to drive, not race!” _ _

_ _“In that case, you’ve learned enough. Pull over, let Pepper have a go.” _ _

_ _“No, I want to go last,” she said. _ _

_ _“Really?” Crowley asked. “Because you’ll still have to let go of Brian either way.”_ _

_ _“I want to be the one to drive back into town and scare Tyler,” she said cooly, ignoring the comment. “Brian goes next.” _ _

_ _Crowley shrugged, slightly impressed. Brian reluctantly let go of Pepper’s hand and crawled into the driver’s seat. He did a decent job, all things considered. At least he made it up to the speed limit, even if he did drop the clutch too hard and it was a little jarring. Granted, the girl in the back may have had more to do with that than the actual car. _ _

_ _“This is a lot harder than it looks,” Brian said, trying to cover. “I don’t get is how Harry and Ron did this when they were only 12.” _ _

_ _“They didn’t have a 27’ Bentley,” Crowley said, trying not to flinch too much when he shifted. “You’re doing just fine.” _ _

_ _Everyone held their breath when Pepper took the wheel, not sure what to expect. She didn’t even look at the shift as she turned back into town, smoothly picking up speed. Crowley sighed and turned to look at her. _ _

_ _“You already knew how to drive, didn’t you?” _ _

_ _“Yup.” _ _

_ _“But you just turned 16 two weeks ago!” Wensley said. _ _

_ _“I know.”_ _

_ _“Pepper!” Adam cried. “You didn’t tell us!” _ _

_ _“Sorry boys, that was part of the deal. Mum said she’d teach me one weekend if I didn’t tell anybody. She's alright, you know.” _ _

_ _“How long ago was that?” Adam asked. _ _

_ _“Two months ago. Technically speaking, I could learn how to drive, I just wasn’t licensed.” _ _

_ _“You say that like you are licensed,” Wensley said suspiciously. _ _

_ _Pepper reached into her purse and pulled out a little card, flashing it smugly. Adam snatched it from her to get a closer look, he and Wensley groaning about the injustice of it all. Brian leaned his head back against the seat, still a little speechless and not quite sure what to do with himself. It was impressive. _ _

_ _She was a good driver, and Crowley found himself able to relax and properly enjoy the ride for the first time that day. They made it back to town in no time, waving as they passed Aziraphale and Newt talking in the garden at Jasmine Cottage. Pepper guided them easily into town, weaving through the streets as they looked for R.P. Tyler, who was due to be taking his scheduled afternoon walk about now. _ _

_ _“Up there!” Adam called. “I see him!” _ _

_ _“Hand me my license,” Pepper said excitedly. _ _

_ _They were coming up behind him on a wide lane, and there was no one else in sight. She raced up, then turned the steering wheel sharply, spinning them 180 degrees and skidding into place right next to Tyler. The poor man looked like he’d just seen a ghost. _ _

_ _“Guess who’s licensed!” Pepper yelled triumphantly, flashing her card. _ _

_ _R.P. Tyler clutched his chest in dismay and took a step backward, bumping into Ms. Flora. _ _

_ _“Are you alright, Mr. Tyler?” she asked sweetly. _ _

_ _“They’ve learned to drive!” Tyler exclaimed, as if he had just caught them robbing a bank or selling drugs. _ _

_ _“Who?” _ _

_ _He pointed at the Bentley. _“Them!”__ _

_ _Ms. Flora brightened when she realized it was Pepper behind the wheel, and not Crowley. _ _

_ _“Oh, how lovely! Good for you lot, I didn’t realize you were old enough for that yet. Tell you what, why don’t you drop by my place for some tea and biscuits to celebrate?” _ _

_ _“Yes, please!” Brian begged, perking up again. _ _

_ _“We’ll be there in 10,” Pepper grinned. “I want to take another lap around the town first.” She looked at Crowley uncertainly. “If you’re ok with it, I mean.” _ _

_ _“Be my guest,” Crowley grinned. _ _

_ _…_ _

_ _ _Six years after No-pocalypse._ _ _

_ _Aziraphale figured he probably should have expected a text or phone call. He should have realized that it had been far, far too quiet for far, far too long, and that Crowley hadn’t interrupted his reading for hours. But the book was too good and the world outside was much too hot, sending everything into a lazy stupor. Tadfield had been rather quiet lately since the Them had gone backpacking across Europe. They would be back in a few weeks, and Adam would be able to cool the village off for a bit then. But for now, the residents of Tadfield mostly stayed indoors and kept out of trouble. Aziraphale probably should have guessed that something crazy was bound to happen sooner or later, but he didn’t. _ _

_ _It took four texts from Anathema before he finally disengaged from his book. _ _

_ _ _You have GOT to come see this._ _ _

_ _ _Come quick!_ _ _

_ _ _You’re not going to believe what I’m seeing._ _ _

_ _ _PUT THE BOOK DOWN AND GET OVER HERE NOW!_ _ _

_ _Aziraphale dropped the book and ran across the field. R.P. Tyler was storming away from the house, hands over his ears and scowling like anything. _ _

_ _“Music! Bah! Disturbing the peace and quiet is what that is!” he yelled to Aziraphale. _ _

_ _He heard the drums before he could ask what music Tyler was talking about. The windows on Jasmine cottage were shaking slightly. _ _

_ _ _Thunderbolt and lightning, very very frightening me_ _ _

_ _“There you are!” Tracy yelled, pulling him into the kitchen. “You nearly missed it!” _ _

_ _ _Galileo, galileo_ _ _

_ _“What’s going on?” Aziraphale yelled over the cacophony._ _

_ _ _Galileo, galileo_ _ _

_ _“They formed a band,” Bee grimaced. _ _

_ _ _Galileo figaro_ _ _

_ _“In my living room,” Anathema said, rolling her eyes. _ _

_ _ _magniFICOOO!!!_ _ _

_ _It certainly was a strange sight. Gabriel manned the keyboard, hair flying as he pounded the keys enthusiastically. Shadwell, it turned out, was remarkably skilled with a drum set. Newt looked a little lost, but was dutifully clashing the cymbals whenever Crowley pointed at him. Crowley, for his part, had taken center stage with an electric guitar and a pink sparkly fake microphone. Debbie stood next to him, hair bright purple and sticking out in all directions. She played with the guitar toy Newt’s mother had given her for her last birthday, mimicking Crowley’s every move. Somehow, it was also playing real music. Queenie the duck was a good mascot, wandering between them and quacking in bewilderment._ _

_ _“I’m just a poor boy, nobody loves, me,” Crowley sang. _ _

_ _“HE’S JUST A POOR BOY FROM A POOR FAMILY,” Gabriel, Shadwell, and Newt sang in surprisingly good harmony. “Spare him his life from this monstrosity.” _ _

_ _“Easy come, easy go, will you let me go?” _ _

_ _“BISMILLAH!” Shadwell yelled. It was clearly his favorite part, though he had no idea what it actually meant. _ _

_ _Newt crashed the cymbals together enthusiastically. _ _

_ _“No! We will not let you go,” he and Gabriel chimed in. _ _

_ _“Let him go!” Crowley and Debbie sang. _ _

_ _Anathema turned to Aziraphale. “Your husband taught them this,” she said. _ _

_ _Aziraphale shrugged. “Would you rather them watch Frozen and turn the field into an ice skating rink?” _ _

_ _“No, I just wish they would find another place to practice!” _ _

_ _“Oh, mamma mia, mamma mia…”_ _

_ _“Mamma mia let me go. BEELZEBUB has a devil put aside for me…” _ _

_ _Gabriel winked at Bee, whose eyes widened a little bit. _ _

_ _“For me…”_ _

_ _The others dropped out, leaving only Crowley and Debbie to hit the final note. _ _

_ _“FOR meeeEEEEEEEE!!!” _ _

_ _They hit it perfectly. Crowley jumped in the air excitedly as he began the guitar solo. _ _

_ _“Is anyone else a tiny bit turned on by this?” Tracy asked, admiring her drummer. _ _

_ _Bee and Aziraphale slowly raised their hands, looking a tad guilty. _ _

_ _“Oh, tone it down a little, Az,” Anathema said, taking a step back. _ _

_ _“I’m not doing anything!” he protested. _ _

_ _“Your aura is.” _ _

_ _“So you think you can stone me and spit in my eye?”_ _

_ _“My aura changes when I…?” _ _

_ _“Yes. And what follows too.” _ _

_ _“So you think you can love me and leave me to die?” _ _

_ _“So you can tell when we…?” _ _

_ _“Yes.” _ _

_ _“Oh, baby!” _ _

_ _“EVERY TIME?” Aziraphale asked, voice squeaking. _ _

_ _“Yes, every time!” Anathema sighed. _ _

_ _“Can’t do this to me baby!” _ _

_ _He turned back to look at Crowley, completely mortified. “Oh good Lord.” _ _

_ _“Just gotta get out, just gotta get right outta here!” _ _

_ _Crowley had caught sight of them now, grinning as he launched into the riff. Aziraphale turned back to Anathema one last time. _ _

_ _“Jealous?” he said primly. _ _

_ _Anathema’s jaw dropped. _ _

_ _“Close your mouth dear, we are not a codfish,” he said smugly, turning back to watch Crowley. _ _

_ _Bee nodded admiringly, and Tracy tried not to laugh. Anathema, not knowing how to respond, just stayed silent, shaking her head. The band finally slowed, much to the relief of everyone but Debbie and her inhuman energy. _ _

__ _“Nothing really matters, anyone can see…_  
Nothing really matters  
Nothing really matters to me…” 

_ _Crowley wandered over to the little audience, trying not to trip on the cord. He was grinning like anything. _ _

_ _“Any way the wind blows…” _ _

_ _He leaned over expectantly at the last note, and Aziraphale kissed him obligingly. _ _

_ _“Wonderful, dear.” _ _

_ _“Thanks. Been working on it for awhile.” _ _

_ _“We’re gonna play it at the party!” Debbie said, still jumping on the now non-existent beat. _ _

_ _“What party?” _ _

_ _“We’re going to throw a coming home party when the hooligans get home,” Shadwell said as he leaned over the drum set and tried not to show how tired he was. _ _

_ _“Oh that sounds lovely!” _ _

_ _"We're working on Best Friend too," Crowley added. "Want to hear it?" _ _

_ _Newt and Shadwell looked slightly panicked at the thought of doing another one so soon, though Gabriel cracked his knuckles eagerly and Debbie continued to jump up and down. _ _

_ _"Maybe in a bit," Aziraphale smiled. "Maybe we should stop for some refreshments first." _ _

_ _"Yes, yes, good idea," Newt said, setting the cymbals down. _ _

_ _"I'll grab some scotch," Shadwell said, disentangling himself from the drum set. _ _

_ _"It's 2 in the afternoon!" Anathema cried. _ _

_ _"When you get to my age, lass, it doesn't matter no more," he explained kindly, patting her on the shoulder. "Especially after that." _ _

_ _"Wait...you're not supposed to drink at 2 in the afternoon?" Bee asked, confused. _ _

_ _"It's typically saved for evening endeavors," Tracy explained. _ _

_ _Bee and Gabriel locked eyes. "Well that would explain it," they said. _ _

_ _Gabriel pulled out a notebook and made a note, nodding seriously. "No drinks unless evening. But if age makes a difference, does being a 6,000 year old entity count?" _ _

_ _"Not in public," Tracy said. "Don't forget you still look young." _ _

_ _Crowley rubbed his forehead wearily. "How much did you drink?" _ _

_ _"Well we didn't get drunk," Bee said indignantly. _ _

_ _"Just a bit tipsy," Gabriel added. _ _

_ _"Yeah, that's the human equivalent for absolutely plastered!" Crowley said. _ _

_ _"So the whole town thinks we're drunks?" Gabriel asked, looking horrified. _ _

_ _"Probably," Newt said. _ _

_ _"Right." Gabriel dusted his hands and headed for the door._ _

_ _"Where are you going?" Aziraphale asked. _ _

_ _"Well I can't let the whole town think we're drunks!" Gabriel called. _ _

_ _"Wait, no!" Crowley called, but it was too late. He turned to Bee in dismay. "You've gotta stop him." _ _

_ _"Why? He's learning to apologize," they said, still looking a little lost. _ _

_ _"Yeah, but what's he gonna say? Sorry, we didn't mean to look drunk, we just didn't know what the proper human consumption of alcohol was supposed to be?" _ _

_ _They thought about this for a second. "Yeah, ok, fair point. GABE!" _ _

_ _Aziraphale sideled up to Crowley, watching as Bee dashed out the door. "We weren't like that when we first got here, were we?" _ _

_ _"I don't remember," Crowley said, shaking his head. "Although, granted, they do have 6,000 years of human customs to catch up on. We learned along the way." _ _

_ _"True." _ _

_ _"They'll get there," Tracy said, smiling as she peered out the window. "You both did."_ _


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got away from me a little bit. Debbie's finally old enough to start developing a personality so I had a lot of fun with this chapter. Also, I'm sick, so sorry if there are any rough spots.
> 
> Continuity Things I COMPLETELY Forgot to Mention:  
Shadwell and Tracy eloped during Anathema's coma (I know I mentioend it briefly in the husband's wedding sequence but wanted to clarify)  
Aziraphale did end up opening a bookshop in Tadfield.  
Newt stopped trying to go by Newton when nobody would switch over (I literally did this only for the joke about salamanders and Isacc Newton, back when I first started and forgot that he went by Newt). 
> 
> There's probably more. Oh well. Anyway, they may not bother you but they bugged me when I realized.

_6 Years after No-pocalypse_

When ever anyone in Tadfield talked about Debbie, and she usually came up at least once per day in the average person’s conversation about one misadventure or another, they always noted three things. First was that she never seemed to run out of energy, which is probably why she continually got into trouble. Secondly, was that she was always, always smiling, which could be quite unnerving at times, though they only whispered that in quiet places when nobody else was around. Finally, though this was noticed less often than the other two, was that she was absolutely brilliant. Nobody outright disliked her, because she was a difficult girl to dislike despite her constant mischief, but she could be a little overwhelming at times. Luckily, any suspicions the townsfolk might have had, including the very generous amount from R.P. Tyler, slid off her like water off a duck. 

Anathema decided to homeschool, so she could keep a closer eye on her little antichrist. It was a group effort. She herself taught English, thoroughly annoyed at her own lack of literature growing up and taking full advantage of re-learning and re-living the childhood she should have had. Wensleydale took over math and science, since he was the only one who could keep up with her never-ending questions and breakneck learning speed. Newt had tried, at the beginning, until she went from learning the basics of addition to flawless division in the span of a day. Aziraphale and Crowley did their best with history, telling their own personal adventures while using the books to fill in the gaps, though Aziraphale always insisted they were wrong, even if he hadn’t actually been there. The arts became Tracy’s domain, as she had recently gotten back into her childhood passions. After all, she said, one needed a new hobby after giving up a witch crafting business. It sort of took the fun out of it when you’ve actually met God and Satan face-to-face. 

There were some unusual courses too, ones that aren’t normally taught in school. On Saturdays, when the Them were out of school, Crowley and Aziraphale would teach them all various sword fighting techniques. Debbie was strictly limited to a nerf sword, but she thought it was great fun. Anathema counted it as P.E., and fortunately the government didn’t question it or look any further. She also pulled out some of her old witching books and taught Debbie some of the more useful skills (although she refused to teach her about auras, not when the neighbors couldn’t keep their hands off each other). Once, Shadwell tried to teach her how to exorcise a demon with only a finger, claiming that if anyone other than him could do it, it would be Debbie. Anathema had called Aziraphale, who had hurriedly come over to convince Shadwell that it was far too dangerous a move to try again now that they had demon friends in the neighborhood. After a moment’s thought, he had solemnly agreed, apologizing to the wee lass that he couldn’t impart his most powerful skill, though secretly glad he was still the only one.

Once a week, Adam and Michael (and occasionally Dae or Bee) took her out to the glen in secret, and helped her learn how to control her powers. They started small, controlling apples and oranges to make patterns in the air, and summoning a mobile straight to her hand in case she needed help. These were the only times she would actually genuinely become tired. 

Her time off was usually spent in two ways. Most often she could be found baking with Newt, who, after taking a few courses in business at the local college, had opened a bakery in Tadfield. He called it Newton’s Apple, and specialized in fruity pies and tarts, with crepes for breakfast (at the request of Aziraphale and some pointed looks from Crowley). Debbie loved cooking with her father, loved washing the fruit and rolling the dough and watching as the oven slowly turned it golden brown. It was her father’s own version of magic, and she adored it. Even if she didn’t help him bake, she would sit at one of the little tables and do her homework, savoring the sweet smells and eating tarts till her fingers got sticky and Wensley stole her science homework from her until she washed her hands. 

People often remarked how mature she was for her age, but she was only six, after all, and still got overwhelmed often with the idea of being an antichrist and saving the world. She was just better at hiding it than most six-year-olds. When Debbie got overwhelmed, instead of throwing a tantrum or slamming the door to her room shut, she went to the bookshop. Aziraphale had a corner for her in the bag, with beanbags and blankets and a mini fridge with snacks tucked behind one of the shelves. The books were her escape, where she could dive into another universe and let someone else save the world for a change. She’d been reading since she was four, and thought that at 6 she could choose her own books thank you very much. Despite Anathema’s attempts at keeping all books containing magic out of her hands, Debbie had a way of finding them anyway. It didn’t help that the bookshop was slightly sentient in of itself, despite Aziraphale no longer being an official Angel. By simply wanting to relate to a character with magic powers, or wanting to find out more, the books simply appeared on the shelf next to her, quite without her doing anything. She was currently devouring the Magic Treehouse series. Aziraphale found her once, but she had promised not to try any of the things in the books (at least not without Adam), and he’d let it slide, keeping her secret safe. 

Her godfathers were some of her favorite people. They made her feel safe, and not just physically. They were safe because she could tell them just about anything, and do things that her parents wouldn’t allow her to do in a million years. They adored her, and she adored them. She knew that if she needed anything, all she had to do was ask. Most six-year-olds, when they find this out, might have taken advantage of this, but Debbie loved them too much for that. Besides, she knew her limitations and boundaries, and understood why they were there. They were there to keep her safe, and for now she accepted this with an innocent heart. There were few things she really, truly wanted that she didn’t already have. Until she saw The Bike. 

It was from her favorite TV show, and was quite impressive. The frame was a sparkling pink that glowed in the dark, with interchangeable wheels for different terrains, a seat that raised automatically for splashing across creeks and hard jumps, and complete with hand-breaks, 9 gears, a basket, and streamers. Newt had also insisted on training wheels. The problem was that it was a cartoon, and didn’t actually exist in the real world. It had taken several weeks of internet searching, multiple phone calls, some harsh negotiations on Crowley’s part to get a decent price, a few modifications, and one miracle from Adam before they’d finally managed to land one that was even close. So they were able to give her one for her 6th birthday, giving them an automatic upgrade to Best Godfathers Ever, possibly in higher regard over her actual parents for the moment.

“You FOUND IT!! You really, really found it!!” Debbie screamed, clapping her hands delightedly. Aziraphale couldn’t help grinning.

“I think she likes it,” Crowley said as Debbie ran around her new bike. 

“That’s the most impractical looking thing I’ve ever seen,” Pepper sighed. “What’s with the streamers?” 

“Oh, hush, she likes them,” Aziraphale said. 

“Do you actually want to ride it, or would you rather keep running around it in circles?” Crowley asked her, smiling. 

Debbie stopped abruptly. “I don’t know how to ride a bike,” she said, as if she were just now realizing this. 

“That’s alright, we’re here to teach you,” Aziraphale said, lifting her onto the bike. 

“Oh, so you’ll teach her to ride a bike but not us to drive a car?” Pepper teased. 

“Bikes are safer,” Aziraphale pointed out. 

“Depends on where you ride them,” Pepper grinned.

“Also, he can’t drive,” Crowley said. 

“I can too drive!” Aziraphale huffed indignantly. 

“Oh, sure. And when was the last time you got in the driver’s seat? 1973?” Crowley shot back. 

“Um, EXCUSE ME,” Debbie said dramatically. “I want to ride a bike!” 

“Right, sorry. So this here is the hand break…” 

“How do I do a wheelie?” she interrupted. 

“You have to learn how to ride it first,” Pepper said. “Then I can teach you all of the cool tricks.” 

“Ok,” she sighed. 

“If you start going too fast, start squeezing this—gently, mind you!—and you’ll stop. 

“Ok!” Debbie said, immediately pedaling off. 

Aziraphale started a light jog after her, Pepper coasting nearby on her own bike. Crowley sat down on the steps with Newt, who looked relieved to get a break. Neither of them were too keen on chasing a six-year-old with a bike, so they sat and planned the next band practice and talked about the new scones Newt was working on instead. 

“I wanna do a trick now!” Debbie said, breaking neatly by the mailbox.

“You’ve only been at it for 10 minutes,” Aziraphale said. “Are you sure?” 

“I learn fast,” she said, flashing a Cheshire Cat worthy grin. It was slightly unsettling. 

“Let’s start small,” Pepper suggested. 

She dismounted and and walked down the road for a bit, coming to a slight rise in the dirt. She pushed around with her feet, packing the dirt and making it sturdier. Then she found a flat piece of scrap wood from the side of the road and put it on the bump, effectively creating a little ramp. 

“There ya go,” she called. “See how you do with this.” 

Debbie grinned, pushing her bike in the opposite direction until she felt it was far enough. Then she started pedaling as fast as she could, gaining more and more speed with every second. A shiver of otherworldly energy rippled through the air, and Crowley looked up abruptly. Before anyone could shout a warning of caution, Debbie hit the ramp, flying into the air…and staying there. Crowley and Newt ran out into the road. 

“Debbie!” Newt cried, alarmed. 

Debbie just cackled, pedaling circles in the air. 

“What did you say about bikes being safer?” Crowley asked.

“Well most bikes don’t typically go flying into the sky!” Aziraphale said. 

“E.T. does,” Pepper pointed out, watching with a weird fascination. “Looks kind of fun actually.” 

“Please tell me you didn’t let her watch E.T.!” Crowley groaned. 

Newt paled. “No…but it is part of the logo sequence for Tintin now that I think about it.” 

“Debbie, dear, please come down,” Aziraphale called. 

“You can’t tell me what to do, I’m the antichrist!” she yelled. 

Crowley shivered involuntarily. There was another wave of energy, but this time it came from Adam, who appeared in front of her. He didn’t seem concerned that he was hovering twenty feet in the air, he just simply put his hands on the handlebar and started lowering them down. 

“Yes, but we can’t let the whole world know that, can we?” he said calmly. 

Debbie pouted. “Hey! I wasn’t finished.” 

“You can keep riding,” Adam promised. “But on the ground, where they can help you if you get stuck.” 

“I wasn’t stuck,” Debbie insisted, digging her heels into the ground bitterly. 

“You know the Deal,” Newt said, placing his hands on her shoulders lest she float away again.

“No powers unless Adam's here,” Debbie sulked. “Or I’m in danger.” 

“Right. Now, are we good?” 

Debbie looked back at Adam. “But soon you’ll be gone to uni, then what will I do?” 

Adam looked to Crowley and Aziraphale, who were suddenly looking a little panicked. “We’ll deal with that when we get there,” had been Crowley’s response for the past 3 years, but now Adam was only a few months shy of his 18th birthday, and the Them were graduating this year. Wensleydale was going to Cambridge for accounting, although he had already filled his schedule with a plethora of other high level courses for random subjects he was interested in. Brian and Pepper were going to a Further Education college not too far away, studying culinary arts and women’s studies respectively. Brian planned to come back and work with Newt in the bakery while Pepper went off to battle as much sexism as she could. Adam still hadn’t decided. Unlike the others, he wasn’t sure what was worth doing in the five short years they had left.

Until now. 

“I’m not going to uni,” he said, voice shaking only slightly. 

“You’re what?” Newt asked, blinking. 

Adam took a deep breath, steadying himself. “Haven’t told my parents yet,” he said nervously. “But I’m staying here. With you lot.” 

“Adam, you don’t have to do this,” Crowley said, shaking his head. “You only five years, you can go out and do anything…”

“What’s the point? What does it matter?” he asked, but not in the dull, hopeless way that most people ask that question. It was simple, almost curious. His hands gripped the pink handlebars tightly. “What the others are doing is great, but…I don’t have anything I’d rather be doing than stay here.”

Aziraphale blinked, suddenly finding himself transported 7 years prior, to the airbase with an eleven-year-old Adam saying the same thing when the Four Horsemen tried to offer him the rule of the world. Times hadn’t changed that much, after all. 

“What will you tell your parents?” he asked, already accepting Adam’s decision. 

“I don’t know yet. They’ll want me to get a job and move out at some point, I suppose. Brian’s working at the bakery…maybe I could work at the bookshop?”

Aziraphale smiled. “I’d like that. Be nice to have an extra hand around.” 

“Maybe I’ll write a book,” Adam continued thoughtfully. “I’ve always wanted to, in a way. Write about what it was like to play in the woods with the Them…before Armageddidn’t, of course. Although, that could be twisted into a nice plot point…”

“There should be a rival gang,” Pepper added. “They can represent the Four Horsemen and we have to fight them for the territory.” 

Adam grinned, feeling lighter than he had in weeks. “That’s not a bad idea. Actually…” His fingers twitched and he looked over his shoulder at the winding road through the village. “Right. I’m going to start writing these ideas down. And tell my parents I’ve decided what to do.” 

He waved cheerfully and started off down the road, Pepper and Debbie following him for a bit on their bikes. Crowley bit his lip worriedly, lost in thought until Aziraphale laid a gentle hand on his arm. 

“What did you expect of him, honestly?” he asked quietly. “It’s Adam Young. He’ll always be in Tadfield.”

“It’s Ineffable,” Newt said. 

Crowley frowned and looked at him. “Nah, it doesn’t sound right when you say it.” 

Newt shrugged, not really caring. “I’m right though, aren’t I?” 

Crowley looked back at Adam, now running through the field as Dog came to greet him. 

“Yeah,” he sighed. “It’s where he’s meant to be.”

…

_7 Years Post Apoca-nope._

Something was wrong. 

Crowley could tell, because he was aware of two things. Honestly, the better move would probably have been to let him sleep normally. But that would have required a demon who was extremely well-versed in human affairs, and the only one who met those qualifications was Crowley himself.

The first thing he was aware of was the fact that there weren’t any nightmares. In fact, it felt like a very peaceful sleep. The problem was that he was aware of it. Humans weren’t supposed to be aware that they were sleeping, which meant there was some sort of interference to make him think that he was. 

The second thing he was aware of was Debbie. He couldn’t see her, but he could feel her presence, and she was terrified. 

Somewhere in the depths of Hell, someone wanted him out of the way.

Crowley snapped awake and sat up abruptly, every nerve on fire as he listened intently. It was far, far too quiet. Not even a cricket chirped in the garden. He reached over and tried to shake Aziraphale awake. 

“C’mon, angel, wake up!” 

“W’ass wrong?” he slurred, turning into his pillow.

“I dunno, but it’s something.” 

He leapt out of bed and ran to the window, peering into the darkness. It was cloudy, and most of the lights in the town were out. He could barely make out the silhouette of Jasmine Cottage. 

“It’s just a nightmare, Crowley, it’s not real,” Zira yawned. 

He was almost tempted to believe it. Almost. 

Except for the fact that Debbie’s terror suddenly grew stronger. 

“No…” Crowley breathed. “It’s not. Not this time.” 

He reached for the flaming sword, which they always kept near the bed, and climbed out of the window, not even bothering to go for the door. It had been seven years since the first time he had bolted across the field in the middle of the night, and true to his word he hadn’t done it since. This time at least, there was no snow to get in his way, although his stupid human body had gotten older and wouldn’t move as fast. Damn it, they wouldn’t run fast enough! Crowley tried as hard as he could to lengthen his stride, but one leg was already cramping up. 

“GABRIEL!!” he screamed, hoping beyond hope that the archangel would hear him. 

Where was everyone?!?!

A dark shadow flitted from the house, carrying Debbie, bound and tied, over its shoulder. A Fallen Sandalphon, eyes red, glared at him and raised a sword menacingly to her chest. Crowley charged, knowing that they would never kill their precious little antichrist. Hurt her, yes, but that could easily be miracled. Sandalphon had evidently not expected this, and took a step back in alarm, slightly off balance. Crowley took advantage of the moment and wrenched Debbie from his arms. She fell roughly to the ground and squirmed over to Crowley, hiding behind his legs. 

“Don’t,” he snarled warningly, “_Touch her_.” __

_ _“She belongs to us,” Sandalphon sneered. _ _

_ _“No, she doesn’t.” _ _

_ _“She will start the Armageddon and End the World! It is her destiny, you cannot stop this!” _ _

_ _“Maybe not. But she can.” _ _

_ _Sandalphon lunged forward, but Crowley was quicker, blocking every blow and pushing him back up against the house. Debbie wriggled out of her bonds, which had been thrown on hastily. She reached out an arm and Sandalphon’s sword flew from his fingers and into the middle of the field. Crowley stabbed him right in the chest, twisting it to cause the most pain as Sandalphon discorporated, screaming. _ _

_ _Immediately, Crowley turned and scooped up Debbie with one arm, grateful that she was still small enough to do it. She wrapped her arms around his neck and cried into his shoulder. _ _

_ _“Were there any more?” Crowley asked, looking around frantically. _ _

_ _“No,” Debbie sobbed. “It was just him. I could feel him coming, I was so scared!” _ _

_ _“Shhh, it’s alright, you’re alright now. You did the right thing, you were able to wake me up.” _ _

_ _“I tried to tell mum and dad but they didn’t move!” _ _

_ _Crowley felt his heart sink and desperately hoped they were only under a sleeping spell. But he wasn’t going to go and check with Debbie still in his arms. Not if…_ _

_ _“DEBBIE!” Anathema screamed. _ _

_ _Crowley sighed so hard with relief that he nearly fell over. Anathema and Newt came running out the house, both drenched in sweat but thankfully alive. Newt took Debbie from his arms and held her protectively._ _

_ _“Thank God you’re alright,” Newt cried. _ _

_ _“CROWLEY!” _ _

_ _Crowley looked around anxiously, relieved to see the oppressive darkness fading into a more natural spring evening. Aziraphale had only just left the house, running across the field. He waved his sword in response. _ _

_ _“Sleeping spell?” Crowley asked, turning back to the Pulsifers. He was still scanning for any other ambush attacks. _ _

_ _Anathema nodded, leaning heavily on Newt. “I couldn’t move,” she gasped. “I tried and I tried but I couldn’t get out.” _ _

_ _Adam materialized in their midst, bumping into Crowley as he tried to regain his balance. He grimaced and held his head in pain. _ _

_ _“Remind me not to do that often,” he groaned. “What just happened?” _ _

_ _“Demon tried to get Debbie,” Crowley said, instinctively holding out a hand to steady him. _ _

_ _“They weren’t…supposed to come…yet…” Aziraphale wheezed, finally joining them. “They’re supposed…to wait…until she’s 11…”_ _

_ _“Breathe,” Crowley said gently, though his own breath was nearly just as ragged. “Evidently they thought it’d be best to get control over her before then.” _ _

_ _“I’m sorry,” Aziraphale said miserably. “I should have woken up…I always wake up when there’s a nightmare, I don’t know why…”_ _

_ _“It’s not your fault, the whole town was under that spell,” Adam interrupted. “I couldn’t even wake Dog up.” _ _

_ _“But I did wake up,” Aziraphale insisted. “I woke up but then I ignored everything and went back to sleep…”_ _

_ _“Shh, angel, it’s fine,” Crowley promised, wrapping one arm around his shoulder. The other arm still held the sword defensively. “There weren’t any nightmares, that’s how I knew something was wrong.” _ _

_ _There was a flutter of wings above them, and they all jumped, startled. Gabriel and Bee landed beside them, both looking a little disheveled. _ _

_ _“Nice of you to show up,” Crowley snapped. “Did you fall under the sleeping spell too?”_ _

_ _“What sleeping spell?” Gabriel asked. _ _

_ _“Your old pal Sandalphon just tried to kidnap Debbie,” Crowley said, feeling dangerously angry. “I actually called on you for Hea- for Pete’s sake, where were you?” _ _

_ _“Well we’re here now, that’s the point,” Bee said. “And she’s safe, I see.” _ _

_ _“Oh my God,” Newt groaned. _ _

_ _“Well what else are we supposed to do at night? We don’t need the sleep,” Gabriel said. _ _

_ _“Please stop talking,” Anathema said. _ _

_ _“I was trying to change the subject,” Bee pointed out. _ _

_ _“I want guards posted round the clock,” Crowley interjected. “One angel and one demon, never far away from here. Find someone, got it?” _ _

_ _Gabriel looked slightly taken aback. He was used to them operating more as a team, carefully moving around sensitive issues with no one taking a direct lead. It’s how it worked. It was how it had worked for 7 years. He very nearly said something, but the fury in Crowley’s eyes stopped him. He knew better than to argue, especially when a flaming sword was involved. Besides, it was a good idea. _ _

_ _“On it,” he agreed, disappearing with a snap. _ _

_ _“I’ll stay the rest of the night,” Bee sighed. “Just in case.” _ _

_ _Debbie leaned over, reaching for Crowley again. “Don’t go!” she cried. _ _

_ _Crowley took her automatically, dropping the sword and holding her with both arms. “Bee’s here now, they can protect you.” _ _

_ _Debbie shook her head. “You were the only one that woke up,” she said desperately. _ _

_ _Aziraphale, Anathema, and Newt looked at each other guiltily. Crowley sighed. _ _

_ _“Alright if I stay on your couch?” he asked the Puslifers. _ _

_ _Anathema nodded, too tired to protest. “It’s a pullout. There’s room for both of you.” _ _

_ _“Let’s meet up in the morning,” Adam suggested. “We’ll debrief then. I’m going to check on the others to make sure they’re alright.”_ _

_ _“Don’t stay out too late,” Crowley said. _ _

_ _“I’m young, I can handle it.”_ _

_ _“Right, the rest of you, inside, now,” Bee commanded, herding them inside. “I’ll keep watch.” _ _

_ _Debbie was not ready to go to sleep yet, the adrenaline far too high and the terror all too real. Crowley convinced her exhausted parents that he would handle it, and sent them off to bed. He continued to hold her, gently rocking back and forth at the window. _ _

_ _“Sing in your nanny voice,” she whispered. _ _

_ _He was all too willing to oblige, quietly singing Scarborough Fair in all its verses before Debbie finally drifted off. Crowley laid her down carefully in bed, tucking the starry blanket around her. She had gone back to her old habit of sucking her thumb, which Anathema hated, but for once he didn’t intervene. It had been a terrifying ordeal, and a child was allowed some indulgences every once and awhile, after all. _ _

_ _Aziraphale had retrieved their pillows and blankets from the house, setting the couch in order. He was pacing nervously by the window. Crowley watched him for a minute. _ _

_ _“Where’s Bee?” he asked quietly. _ _

_ _“Roof,” Aziraphale said, pointing. _ _

_ _He continued to pace, wringing his hands in agitation. Crowley took three, smooth steps forward and placed his hands softly over them, stopping him from moving. Zira looked up at him, eyes heartbreakingly soft. _ _

_ _“I _always_ wake up for you,” he said, voice breaking. ___ _

_ _ _ _“I know,” Crowley said, pulling him in to a hug. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“You needed me, and I didn’t…” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Hey,” he said softly, tilting his chin up. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _He pressed their lips together tenderly, trying to offer as much comfort and forgiveness as he could. Aziraphale leaned in gratefully, relaxing under Crowley’s touch. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“There was nothing you could do about it,” Crowley whispered, pulling back just enough to speak. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“You did,” Aziraphale whispered back, voice trembling. “Why were you the only one who could wake up?” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I don’t know,” Crowley sighed. “Maybe it was Ineffable,” he added. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Aziraphale scowled. “Don’t use that word with me!” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Sorry, angel,” he grinned. “Couldn’t help it. It’s nothing we can solve tonight, anyway.”_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _He led them over to the couch and sank into the highly uncomfortable sagging mattress. Aziraphale groaned._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Why did you agree to this?” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Crowley looked over at Debbie’s door. “She needed me.”_ _ _ _


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ended up being a little long, but I didn't know where I could split it to make it shorter. Ah well. Take a break if you need to. 
> 
> Also, since I can't get more than a few italics in per chapter, I decided to try doing the music in parenthesis. Hope it makes sense. If you really want to experience it, go listen to Don't Stop Me Now (Queen) while you read. It'll make you grin. :)

_Eight Years post Apoca-nope.___

_ _They had gone to London, to go “antique-ing,” as Aziraphale called it. He had found several wonderful books for the shop, along with some nice lamps and beautiful wood-carved snake. But the most prized find of the day, at least for Debbie and Crowley, was a perfectly functioning and beautifully maintained Dance Dance Revolution. They hadn’t been used in years, save for some old children’s museums and retro arcades. They had begged and begged and finally Aziraphale relented and said they could use it as long as it was in the conservatory, not the living room. Crowley agreed it was a small price to pay, considering the music selection. _ _

_ _(Don’t stop me now…don’t stop me now…)_ _

_ _Debbie’s feet bounced rhythmically from square to square, perfectly timed to the music and never hesitating. Crowley eyed her suspiciously as he tried to keep up. _ _

_ _(‘cause I’m having a good time, having a good time!)_ _

_ _“Are you sure you’re not using your powers?” he asked, breathing heavily as he missed a step._ _

_ _(I’m a shooting star leaping through the skiiiess…like a tiger defying the laws of gravity…)_ _

_ _“‘M not!” Debbie insisted. She was lying, just a little. But she hadn’t sped her feet up _too_ much, so she didn’t feel like she was really cheating. “I’m just really good at this.”___ _

_ _ _ _(I’m a racing car passing by like Lady Godiva…I’m gonna go go GO, there’s no stopping meeee.)_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“We only found it yesterday,” Crowley protested. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Your point?” she asked sweetly. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Crowley hesitated for a minute as a particularly tricky combination hit the screen. Adam sat on the edge of the waterfall, watching them with amusement. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _(I’m burning through the skies, Yeah! Two hundred degrees, that’s why they call me Mister Fahrenheit!)_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Need me to take your place, Crowley?” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _(I’m traveling at the speed of light, I wanna make a supersonic man of you.)_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I can keep up just fine, thanks,” Crowley said, keeping his eyes firmly plastered to the screen. He missed another step. “Shit. Don’t tell your mother I said that,” he added quickly, throwing a quick glance at Debbie. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _(Don’t stop me now!)_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Don’t tell her I’m reading Harry Potter and we have a deal.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _(I’m having such a good time. I’m having a ball…)_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I swear, if you reference that during the Battle…”_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _(Don’t stop me now!!)  
“Thought it could be useful,” Debbie said. “If I think about Avada Kedavra hard enough…” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _(If you wanna have a good time just give me a call!)_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Crowley shook his head. “I didn’t even know Zira kept those in the shop,” he sighed. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _(Don’t stop me now…)_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I didn’t know either. I just found them one day.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _(Don’t stop me now. I don’t wanna stop at all!)_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I found a lot of books that way,” Adam mused. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _(I’m a rocket ship on my way to Mars, on a collision course…)_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _He tilted his head thoughtfully. “You do know that we’re jogging today, right?” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _(I am a satellite, I’m out of a control…)_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“We’re…wait what?” Crowley spluttered, missing three steps in a row. “No we’re not, that’s tomorrow.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _(I am a sex machine ready to reload, like an atom bomb about to explode!)_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Adam shook his head. “Gabriel changed the schedule now that we can handle more. Three times a week instead of two.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _(I’m burning through the skies, yeah! Two hundred degrees, that’s why they call me Mister Fahrenheit!) _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Damn it,” Crowley cursed._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _(I’m traveling at the speed of light, I wanna make a supersonic woman out of you!) _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Oh, I could have told you that,” Debbie said innocently. “I thought you knew.”_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“You little Hellspawn!” Crowley said through gritted teeth. “Alright, Adam, get over here.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Adam jumped on, fluidly taking over without missing a beat. Crowley collapsed exhausted on the floor, trying to catch his breath. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _With three years left until the final Battle, Gabriel had decided to jump in and help everyone get ready. He’d started a jogging group over the summer, when the Them were home from university and could join in. It was fairly small, just the Them, the Pulsifers, Bee, and Aziraphale and Crowley, although sometimes Michael and Dae joined in for company. But today, with the Them back in school, it would be even smaller, which meant Gabriel would be more…outgoing with his comments. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Are you alright, Crowley dear?” Aziraphale asked, sticking his head in. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Crowley tilted his head back so he could see the door. Aziraphale, evidently, had not missed the memo about the new jogging schedule, as he was dressed in an oversized sweatshirt and what looked something like yoga pants. It was, quite frankly, adorable. Crowley felt himself blushing, though he realized he was probably so flushed from the dancing nobody could tell. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Ngk…”_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“He didn’t realize jogging was today,” Adam said as he forced the machine to go at twice the speed. Debbie didn’t bat an eye, legs blurring as she still managed to hit each one perfectly. Queen ended, replaced rather miraculously by Shakira. Normally Crowley would have scowled at such a music atrocity, but he was too tired to argue, and Debbie genuinely did like her music. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Oh, darling, I’m sorry, I thought I’d told you.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Crowley waved his arm absently. “No worries, angel. I’ll manage.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Aziraphale cocked his head slightly, which caused Crowley’s heart rate to speed up again. “You don’t look like you’re managing.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“In all fairness,” Crowley managed, “you are looking pretty damn cute today.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Aziraphale blinked, looking slightly embarrassed and just a bit pleased. “Crowley!” he said, eyeing the children. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I’m 19, guys,” Adam reminded them. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“You’re not the one I’m worried about,” Aziraphale said. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _He shouldn’t have. Debbie wasn’t even paying attention, her newest trick taking up just a bit more focused. There was a mirror on the wall behind them, to reflect the sun into the deepest corners of the conservatory during the winter months. She realized she could see the screen perfectly, so she flipped around, doing the whole routine backwards. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Is that the best you got?” she asked, smirking._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“No fair,” Adam gasped. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _He tried to follow, but this was where his capabilities ended. It was far too disorienting, and he completely missed the next 10 moves. The doorbell rang at just that moment, saving him from any further humiliation. Debbie leaped off triumphantly. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I win!” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“You always win,” Crowley groaned. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Kinda the point, isn’t it?” she called as she raced downstairs to get the door. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Aziraphale held out a hand and Crowley took it, begrudgingly getting to his feet. There was one benefit to standing, he realized. It was prime kissing placement. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Crowley, they’re waiting,” Aziraphale giggled half-heartedly. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Let them wait,” Crowley growled hungrily, hands sneaking up the sweatshirt. “It should be a crime to look that cute.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“What, in these old things?” he asked skeptically. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Uh huh.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Well in that case the punishment is jogging. C’mon.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“That’s not what I meant,” Crowley whined, even as he let Zira pull him out of the room. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Oh, I know precisely what you meant, dearest,” he said, looking back with a vague twinkle in his eye. “But let’s see how we feel after the jog.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Ngk.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“There you are,” Gabriel said, sounding a bit ticked. “We’re running late, let’s get a move on.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Oh, relax, there’s still daylight left,” Crowley said._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“You’re not even dressed yet!” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Didn’t get the memo,” Crowley called casually as he slipped into the bedroom to get into some more suitable running clothes. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _It was still just warm enough to wear his “too hot for heaven, too cool for hell” tank from all those years ago. Aziraphale had bought it for him and Gabriel positively hated it, so naturally it was Crowley’s favorite. He took just about every opportunity to wear it. His hair had started growing out a little longer too, just enough to put it up in a man-bun. Aziraphale’s eyebrows, as usual, shot up when he saw it. He had always hated that particular fashion craze, but Crowley somehow managed to make it look sexy. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Gabriel groaned but didn’t protest, already too far past his schedule to care about making Crowley change it. He did try to make a remark about Aziraphale bringing along his tartan jacket, as it wasn’t really running material and looked horrendous, but Crowley stopped him. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Right, where are we going this time?” Adam asked as Debbie snapped on her helmet and mounted her bike. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Tracy’s bringing us a picnic at the overlook,” Bee said. “It’s about six miles from here.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“That’s twelve miles round trip!” Aziraphale exclaimed, paling slightly. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Shadwell’s gonna drive us home,” Anathema clarified. “Don’t worry.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _The eight of them started off, Debbie circling them on her bike and jamming out to whatever music she fancied at the moment. The frame had grown with her, but Adam made sure none of the townspeople noticed anything different. The sparkles and streamers were more than enough of a distraction anyway. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Aziraphale drifted toward the back, Crowley half a step behind so he didn’t feel bad for being the last one. Sure, they were on much better terms with Gabriel nowadays, but old habits die hard, and Crowley could tell when Aziraphale got self-conscious. And Gabriel was trying to be nice, after all. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _(“Why are we even doing this?” Bee asked, slightly irritated, on their first day. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“It’s to build stamina!” Gabriel said enthusiastically, running backwards in front of the group. “Endurance, perseverance, that’s what will win or lose the battle!” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“We’re not the ones who need it,” Bee grumbled. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Yes, dear, but we’re trying to be supportive. Come on, now, Shadwell, shoulders back, head high!” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Shadwell hadn’t come back after the first day.)_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Alright, gang, let’s remember to pace ourselves,” Gabriel called out, very quickly slipping into drill sergeant mode. “The hill at the end is a doozy, so we don’t want to get too tired too quickly.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Where is he learning these words?” Newt groaned quietly. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _The first few miles went by smoothly, all on flat land and paved roads. But then they started veering more out toward the country, where the terrain grew more rocky and uphill. Debbie was the only one who scaled the hills easily, her bike’s wheels adjusting accordingly. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I’m getting too old for this,” Aziraphale sighed, slowing to a walk on a particularly steep one. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Maybe we’ll just join Shadwell in the sniper’s tower,” Crowley agreed, forcing his tired legs to keep moving even if they were screaming at him. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Come on you two, keep up!” Gabriel called from up front. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Working on it!” Crowley yelled, not changing pace. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Oh no, I’ll fight,” Aziraphale said firmly, his eyes sparking like flint. “I just doubt I’ll be doing any running.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“You might be running after the enemy,” Crowley grinned. “They’ll all be fleeing in terror.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Oh, hush.” But he smiled all the same. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Debbie came hurtling down toward them, braking casually. “You alright?” she asked, pulling one earbud out so she could hear. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“We’re fine,” Crowley assured her. “Just coming up a bit slow.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I can always turn my bike into a tandem if you need it,” she teased, flicking her tongue out almost like a snake. Crowley swore he never did it since he became human, but Aziraphale insisted she had to learn it from somewhere. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Not on your life,” Aziraphale huffed. “We’ll manage.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Debbie shrugged and raced up the hill just as easily as she had come down. Gabriel paused for a moment as the rest of the group rounded a corner, waiting for Crowley and Aziraphale to catch up. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“You know,” he said as they neared. “I think it’s your form that’s wearing you out so easily. Maybe you should try…”  
“I think,” Crowley interrupted. “It’s that we’re human and getting old. Maybe you should try to give us back our powers again?” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Aziraphale huffed a wheezy laugh beside him. Gabriel frowned. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I’m just saying, it might help. We can work on it another day if you want. Start jogging again as soon as you’re able.” Crowley groaned painfully at the thought. “Hey it’s the best way to train. Can’t be getting too soft, can we?” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Say that again and I will punch you,” Crowley said. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Walking’s good exercise too,” Gabriel said suddenly. “That’s fine. Just don’t get lost.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Crowley sighed as Gabriel made his way to catch up with the others. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“He’s doing his best,” Aziraphale said. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Yeah, yeah, I know.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Come on, it’s going downhill for a bit, we can jog here. Let gravity do most of the work.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _They did manage to keep jogging the last two miles, as the trail meandered gradually uphill. The last hill was, in fact, a bit more than a doozy, and even Debbie struggled with her bike. Tracy and Shadwell stood at the top, cheering them on and reminding them of the sandwhiches and lemonade that were waiting as a reward. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Wonderful, you made it!” Tracy exclaimed, clapping her hands encouragingly as they pushed through the last bit of incline. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Anathema, Newt, Aziraphale, and Crowley collapsed on the picnic table, completely ignoring the overlook and reaching for the lemonade instead. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“See, that wasn’t so bad!” Gabriel said cheerfully, without so much as a bead of sweat. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“You’re an Angel,” Crowley growled. “They’re antichrists. You don’t get tired.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Terrible business, running,” Shadwell agreed. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Don’t worry, loves, at least you won’t have to walk back,” Tracy said, passing out sandwhiches. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _They ate their sandwhiches quietly, admiring the view of the valley from the overlook. The country was still mostly green, with only the tips of the trees burnt orange, and a crisp breeze helped the humans forget about their sweaty efforts. As soon as the sandwhiches were gone, Tracy went back to the car and brought out dessert. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“You brought cake?” Gabriel said, frowning. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“‘Course I did,” Tracy said. “It’s my birthday, after all.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _There was a chorus of cheerful ‘happy birthday’ and ‘oh, I’d forgotten, sorry,’ but Gabriel looked hesitant. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“The point of this is to be healthy and keep in shape,” he pointed out. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Bee nudged him. “Birthdays don’t count,” they said. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“They don’t?” Gabriel said, confused. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“No. I’ve been reading about it online.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“And you know everything they say online is true,” Adam said seriously. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Gabriel nodded wisely. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I don’t know, I’ve seen a few things that looked…questionable,” Shadwell said. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Oh dear, I’ve miscounted the forks,” Tracy said suddenly. “We’re one short.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Oh, that’s not a problem,” Aziraphale said instantly, reaching into his coat pocket. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _The others, save Crowley, stared at him as he pulled out a spoon and fork. He didn’t notice until there was dead silence around him. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“What?” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“You just…carry a fork around with you?” Newt asked. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Yes,” Aziraphale said like it was obvious. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Why?” Bee asked. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“In case anyone offers cake and ice cream of course.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“He’s got another set in the Bentley,” Crowley added. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“And how long have you done this?” Shadwell asked. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Since cake was invented,” Aziraphale said. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“No, angel,” Crowley sighed. “Since forks were invented.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Oh…oh, you’re right, never-mind. Whenever forks were invented.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Gabriel didn’t seem to be listening, but he was watching. Irritably, Crowley could sense another comment rising up in him, but before he could make eye-contact and stop him, Gabriel spoke. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“You sure you really want to be eating that?” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Aziraphale met his gaze cooly. “I’m curvy and I like it,” he said smoothly. “And I could still take you down any day.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Gabriel scoffed. “No you can’t.”_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Could too.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Then prove it.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“No.”_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Why? Scared?” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I’m busy. I’m eating cake,” Aziraphale said simply._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Then why haven’t you done it before?” Bee asked, genuinely interested. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Wouldn’t have been pretty,” Aziraphale said conspiratorially. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Gabriel finally shut up at that. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _…_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _The nightmares had returned. It had taken Hell a long time to get the department up and running again, and they didn’t have all the fancy equipment they’d had in the past. So, fortunately, they were not nearly as frequent or intense as they had been in the early days. They were also much easier to recognize, which is why Crowley wasn’t freaking out over the sight of a deathly grey Tadfield. Aziraphale stood beside him, numb and emotionless. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“What happened this time?” Crowley sighed. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Armageddon,” he answered coldly, without looking._ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“No. We stopped it.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“‘We’ implies working together. I would never work with a Demon.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Crowley shook his head, repeating the truth even though he knew this Aziraphale wouldn’t come around. “You did though. For thousands of years.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Preposterous. Why on earth would I do that?” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Because you loved me,” he said without hesitation. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Ha! Imagine that. An Angel in love with a Demon? Ridiculous. That could never work.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“We made it work.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Aziraphale turned toward him then, eyes dark. “I never loved you.”_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Crowley sighed. Hastur wasn’t very imaginative, and it was getting a little repetitive. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I know it’s you, Hastur,” he called wearily. “You can’t get to me like this anymore, I know it’s a nightmare.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Scowling, Hastur rose up from the dirt only a few feet in front of Crowley, sword in hand. “Maybe you can recognize it,” he said, voice rough. “But it still gets to you.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Ha! Does not. I know it’s not real.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Hastur tutted quietly. “It doesn’t have to be. But it still hurts.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _He plunged his sword into Aziraphale, and Crowley swallowed hard as he collapsed on the ground, gasping in pain. He woke up easily, staring up at the ceiling. Sighing, he rolled onto his side, curling as close to Zira as he possibly could, matching him breath for breath as calmed down. There was a slight stirring beneath his touch, and Aziraphale turned to face him. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Crowley?” he asked groggily. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Mm.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“You alright?” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Yeah.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Another one?” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Yeah.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“What do you need?”_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Tell me a story.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Which one?” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Crowley thought for a moment. “Greece,” he said finally. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Oh, good Lord,” Aziraphale sighed fondly. “The Olympics or the bath house?” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“You choose. Which was your favorite?” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Olympics,” he said dreamily, a slight shiver going down his spine. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Why?” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“No clothing,” he admitted shamelessly. “And I could watch you, openly. God, you were so devilishly handsome.”_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Even then?” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Oh, always dearest. Did you know I was watching?” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I certainly hoped.” _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“I always was,” Aziraphale said, completely lost in the memory as he ran his fingers through Crowley’s hair. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _It was a well worn routine. Even after Crowley stopped screaming in the aftershocks of the nightmare, Aziraphale could always tell when one hit. He would always wake up, and Crowley would inevitably ask for a story, one that told of Aziraphale’s secret longing and eternal love. They’d gone through most of them already, which was saying something given 6,000 years of history, but Crowley certainly didn’t mind repetitions. It was comforting. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _And they both knew it wouldn’t last for much longer. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _…_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _Nine Years after No-pocalypse.___ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“What if we made it rain Holy Water?” Newt asked. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Bad idea,” Crowley said instantly. “It may come into our ranks.” _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _They were in the forest, training Debbie, along with Anathema, Aziraphale, and Adam. Or, rather, that’s what was supposed to be happening. Only the adults couldn’t decide what new skill they should be focusing on next. Debbie sat forlornly with her back against a tree, covering her ears as they argued. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“But Bee and Dae and the other’s aren’t Demons anymore, right?” Anathema asked._ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Technically no…but Holy Water still has the same effect.” _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“How’d they find that out?” _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Eric volunteered to try, since he’s a Disposable. Not pretty.” _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _It had not been a good week. First, Debbie found out that the little girl down the road was going to DisneyWorld with her family. She hadn’t even known what it was, but when the neighbor told her, it became her new dream. Only Anathema said they most definitely could not go. It was too dangerous to leave Tadfield, except for a short trip to London. Besides, Debbie might get excited and lose control of her powers while they were there, and that wouldn’t be good would it? _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Holy Mudslide,” Aziraphale suggested. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Can you even bless mud?” Newt asked, grimacing. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Maybe.”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“We’re trying to save the world, not destroy it, remember?” Anathema asked. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Will it even be in Tadfield?” Newt asked suddenly. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“It’ll be wherever Debbie is,” Crowley said. “So technically, we can choose the battle ground, get the upper hand.” _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Yesterday the neighborhood boys had been bullying a poor kitten, tying cans to it’s tail and throwing rocks at it. Debbie had gotten so mad that she had made a branch fall out of the tree right in front of them. She hadn’t hurt anybody, it had only scared them, sending them running back to the open fields and letting her help the kitten. But she’d gotten in trouble for that one too. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“What if we put the Demons in another dimension?” Newt said suddenly. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Oh, don’t be absurd, that’s impossible!” Aziraphale huffed. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“That really would be too much,” Anathema agreed. “She wouldn’t be able to handle it.” _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“I changed reality once,” Adam pointed out. “If we work together…”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Our reality, not created a new one,” Crowley said. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _By this point, Debbie had secretly read enough books about magical children that she realized she was in the cliche portion where the parents didn’t let her do anything. It was ridiculous, honestly! The plan backfired in every rendition, but Debbie couldn’t point this out without letting them know she had been illegally reading. Somehow, this made it worse. The wind started to pick up a bit. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“What if we asked Her to help?” Adam asked. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“What, God?” Anathema asked thoughtfully. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Yeah, why not? She is literally on our side. She’s all powerful, so she could do it.” _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Doesn’t work like that,” Crowley said sullenly. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Why not?”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Because it just doesn’t! She never does what we ask!” _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Debbie felt stuck. Everything she had been taught she had mastered almost instantly. Like today, for instance, they had taught her how to throw knives with her powers, aiming at the scarecrow dummies that stood in for the demons. It had been far too easy. Adam ended up moving them forward, simulating an actual attack, but she had nailed each and every one of them within seconds. So there was currently nothing for her to do to prepare for the battle, and she wasn’t allowed to do anything else normally. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Every single arm ripped off the demon stand-ins simultaneously. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _All the adults went silent, staring at her. Sometimes, they could forget just how powerful she was. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“What if just attack?” she snapped. “What if we just went ahead and started the battle tomorrow.” _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Debbie, what are you talking about?” Newt asked. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Surprise attack,” she said, jumping sharply to her feet. “They wouldn’t see it coming. We win, Game Over, world continues. Done.” _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“It doesn’t work like that…” Aziraphale said hesitantly. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“WHY?” Debbie yelled, snapping a twig with her hand. A branch fell a few trees away. “You keep saying I’m gonna save the world, but you keep saying the world’s gonna end anyway!” _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“That’s not what we mean…” Anathema said. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Then what’s the point?!?” she asked. Something was itching at her back and she squirmed uncomfortably. “We either know we can win or the world’s gonna end anyway. What’s the point of all this if it doesn’t matter?!?” _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Debbie, calm down,” Adam said gently, trying to approach her. “I know how you feel, but…” _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“NO. You don’t.” She glared at him, at all of them. The clothes on her back started to rise, pulling skyward. “You didn’t grow up being told you were the antichrist. You didn’t know Armageddon was going to happen until it started!” _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Yes, but…” _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“I DON’T WANT TO BE HERE!” she screamed. Her normally soft brown eyes had gone hard and black, almost like she was being possessed, only she wasn’t. “I don’t want to have powers, I don’t want to have to save the world. I DON’T WANT to be the ANTICHRIST!” _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _She stomped her foot decisively on the last word, screaming it out for all the world to hear, and the bulge finally snapped through her clothes, releasing two beautiful scarlet wings. She looked surprised for all of two seconds, before leaping into the air, flying off. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Get in the Bentley!” Crowley yelled, voice raw in panic. The others didn’t need to be told twice. “Somebody call Gabriel and Bee,” he said, racing after Debbie as close as the road allowed. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _She saw them following and turned sharply, aiming for the country. Crowley shot Adam a look in the rearview mirror, which he understood perfectly. The Bentley lifted into the air with all the grace of a plane taking flight, and behaved exactly as one might expect a flying car behave. Crowley jerked the steering wheel and the car banked after Debbie.  
“Oh good Lord,” Aziraphale gasped, holding tight to the edges of his seat. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Does your family have wings?” Newt asked, the only thing he could think of in the moment. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Yeah, we do. And I haven’t told you after 8 years of marriage because I was too scared you wouldn’t like me anymore…NO WE DON’T HAVE WINGS!” _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Anathema rolled down the window and stuck her head out, hair whipping behind her. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Debbie! Come down, please, let’s just talk about this!” _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Debbie just screamed in response, shooting forward even faster. Crowley shook his head. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“That’s not gonna work. She doesn’t want to listen to you,” he said, biting his lip nervously. He glanced over at Aziraphale. “Take the wheel,” he said suddenly. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“What?!?” But Crowley was already moving, rolling down his window. “No, NO! Absolutely not. I don’t even know how to drive a flying car!” _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“It’s just like a regular,” Crowley said, sticking his head out the window. Aziraphale grabbed the wheel instinctively. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“I CAN’T DRIVE A REGULAR!” Aziraphale screeched. Debbie flew higher, and Adam made the car follow. “Crowley, you’ll die!” _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“No, I won’t,” Crowley said determinedly, placing his hands on the top of the car and bracing himself. “Right, Adam?” he added, a little less sure. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Adam nodded wordlessly, too busy focused on keeping the 1927s Bentley in the air, where it definitely should not be, and diverting any planes that might be coming out of the way. Carefully, Crowley lifted himself out, plastering himself on the roof of the car. They were nearly beside Debbie now, despite her best efforts to keep a distance. Adam’s will was stronger. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Hey,” Crowley called as softly and gently as he could over the wind rushing past his ears. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, ‘kay? But right now, you need to be safe. Come with me, I promise we can go anywhere you want without anyone else.” _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“NO,” Debbie shrieked, clawing at herself in her frenzy. “I don't want to be with anyone. I don’t want to go anywhere, I just want to be alone. I just want to get out of here…I…I…” _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Her voice hitched, aching with sobs too large to escape. But she didn’t need to speak the words, her primal urge to escape kicking in, the base, wanton desire to leave changing the air around her. It only took a second to happen, and it only took a second for Crowley to make the decision to do something incredibly brave, or incredibly stupid, depending on who you asked. He jumped, arms reaching and wrapping around Debbie in the fraction of a second before she disappeared. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Aziraphale’s opinion on the situation goes without saying. He screamed, while Newt and Anathema watched in numb horror. Adam, though a hundred different thoughts were racing through his mind, managed to land the car softly in an empty field. The car was silent for a minute, the four of them staring straight ahead in shock, Aziraphale’s knuckles white against the sleek black of the car. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Well that’s new,” Newt said, choked. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Where did they go?” Anathema asked, voice quavering. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“I…I don’t know…” Adam breathed. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“But was that her that did that?” Anathema continued. “Or was it Hell?” _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“I think it was her,” Adam said uncertainly. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“You think?” _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“She…has a similar energy to Hell,” Adam explained hesitantly. “It happened so fast…I couldn’t tell.” _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“She hasn’t done that since she was a baby,” Aziraphale said, sounding not at all like himself. “Not since the night she was born, when we had to take her…”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Ok, breathe,” Adam said. “And get in the passenger’s seat. I’m driving home.” _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Home?!?” Anathema cried. “We can’t go home, they just disappeared!” _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Well we can’t exactly follow them since we don’t know where they went,” Adam said, gently helping Aziraphale move over. “We need help.” _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _…_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Crowley had forgotten what it felt like to teleport. And last time they’d done it, he’d been a Demon. Teleportation, he firmly decided as his body hit the rocky ground and rolled several feet, was not meant for humans. Nausea welled up in him like a hurricane, and he fought the urge to vomit, trying to get his eyes to focus in on Debbie. It was dark where they’d landed, the only light a vague blue glow that seemed to come from the water. Debbie was curled up on a rock, sobbing quietly, but not going anywhere or destroying anything. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Nausea wasn’t nice either, Crowley decided as his body rejected his valient effort. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _Once he had collected himself enough to walk straight (well, perhaps normal is a better word, since Crowley never walked straight), he sat down next to Debbie, waiting for her to make the next move. Almost immediately, she crawled into his lap, wings hanging awkwardly by her side. Crowley helped her fold them around herself as best he could, then rocked her silently. Sometimes it was hard to remember she was only a little girl. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _They didn’t speak for a long time. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _They were in a cave, Crowley realized as he looked around. A cave with an underground river full of glowing blue algae. Something about the scene seemed familiar, and after a bit of thinking he remembered Debbie showing a picture of the place just last week. Wensley had sent it to her, because he thought she might like it. Evidently she did. Crowley tried to remember where it was, where they were now. Croatia, if he remembered correctly. He supposed there were worse places to end up. Debbie’s sobbing slowly settled into quiet sniffing, and he rubbed her back gently. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Nice wings,” he said softly. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“I dunno what happened,” she sniffed mournfully. “I just wanted to get away.” _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“You don’t know how many times I’ve thought that over the years.”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“To get away from me,” she said, not even a question. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Oh no, no of course not. Long, long before you came around. I didn’t really belong to anywhere. I got thrown out as an Angel but I…I didn’t like being a Demon either. And I certainly wasn’t human. All I knew was the Great Plan was horrid, and I wanted to stop it.”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“And you loved uncle Azi,” Debbie added. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Yeah,” Crowley broke into a soft smile. “Yeah, I knew that too. Sometimes I wished we had never been Angels. I just wanted to be human, to be free from carrying out the Plan.” _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“I don’t want to be like this,” she said brokenly. “I just want to be _me_.”___ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Oh, you’re very much you,” Crowley said confidently. “The only thing Hell gave you is your powers. Everything else is you.” _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“I just want a normal life! I want to go to DisneyWorld, and I want to go hiking in New Zealand, and I want to learn how to surf. But no, I have to learn how to sword fight and learn witchy spells and figure out how to kill all the Demons. The world’s gonna end and…and…” Her breath hitched and she started crying again. “I’ll only be 11. I’ll never get a prom, or go to college, or get married…It’s not bloody fair! I didn’t ask for this!” _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Crowley held her tighter as the sobs wracked her tiny frame. “No, it’s not,” he sighed. “I’d change it if I could.” _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Everyone tries to tell me what to do…” _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Have…” Crowley’s voice was taught, trying not to give away too much fear. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Have you been hearing voices? In your head?” _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Debbie hesitated too long. Crowley knew the answer before she nodded her head wearily. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“They say such horrible things,” she whispered. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“It’s not true,” Crowley said firmly. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“They said it’s my destiny.” _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Well it’s not. You get to choose that, not them. That’s why we’re here. That’s all we’re trying to help you do, you know.” _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“But Agnes says it’s my destiny too. There are prophecies, I’ve read them. Both sides are telling me the same thing, really.” _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Crowley could feel his heart break. It was far too much for a nine-year-old to handle, and he knew it. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“You don’t have to fight,” he said quietly. “You can choose not to listen to either side.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Like you and Azi?” _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Yes.” _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Debbie thought for a second, then shook her head. “Hell will come for me. I have to fight eventually.” _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“They didn’t come for Adam.” _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“They didn’t know what to do the first time.” She shivered. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Then we’ll find another way. We’ll figure it out together, ‘kay? No matter what the others say, Zira and I’ll be right behind you.” _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Debbie relaxed into his arms and peered up gratefully through the dark. “Thank you.” _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Anything for my favorite goddaughter.” _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _That cracked a smile. “I’m your only goddaughter.” _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“All the more reason.” _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _The two of them sat silently for a few moments, watching the algae float lazily in the underground river. It was a nice, quiet spot; hardly any wonder Debbie’s subconscious had pulled them here really. Although it was rather out of the way. Crowley reached for his mobile and suddenly realized it wasn’t there. It must have fallen out when he was climbing on the roof of the Bentley. He frowned. They’d have to go outside and find someone to borrow a phone. He didn’t speak Croatian. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Hey, uncle Crowley?” Debbie said sleepily. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Hmm?” _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“I love you.” _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Crowley felt his heart leap to his throat and inwardly cursed himself for being so soft and emotional. He’d always been soft for kids, but this one had herself wrapped around his finger and boy did he know it. As much as he’d liked and cared for Warlock, Debbie was different. He understood why parents would do anything for their children now. Aside from Aziraphale, Debbie was probably the only person he’d ever truly loved. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Don’t tell the rest of the world,” he sighed, “But yeah. Love you too.” _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _She sat up and wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. Her red wings flared out behind her, indicating a better mood. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“I’m ready to go home now,” she said. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Yeah…about that. Lost my mobile so we’ll have to go borrow one.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Oh.” She looked over her shoulder at her new wings. They fluttered unhelpfully. “I don’t know how to put them away.” _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“We’ll have someone help you with that when we get home. For now…” he shrugged out of his leather jacket and draped it over her shoulders. “How’s that?” _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Debbie grinned. “Can I have one of these for Christmas?” _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“I’ll keep it in mind,” Crowley grinned. “C’mon, let’s get out of here. You don’t happen to speak Croatian, do you?” _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _In the end, they managed to convince a very confused tourist who did not speak Croatian, English, or any of the other languages Crowley knew, to let them borrow his phone. Crowley called Michael, who immediately sent Dae to pick them up. It had been a couple hours since they’d disappeared, and all the celestial beings of Adam’s Army had been on high alert searching for them. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Teleportation did not get better the second time round. This time came with a massive headache so blinding he literally lost his vision again for a few minutes, falling ungracefully into Azirphale’s arms. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Oh, hey,” he said casually, drinking in the scent of old books and clean soap. He’d know his angel anywhere. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Thank heavens you’re alright,” Aziraphale said, holding him close. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Course I am, I had Debbie.” _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“We didn’t even know if you’d gone to the same place!” _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“We did. She wouldn’t let me get hurt, even if she was mad.” _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Crowley,” he said meaningfully. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Crowley dared to open his eyes again, and it wasn’t nearly as painful as it’d been 10 seconds ago. He blinked, focusing in on Zira’s warm grey-blue eyes and tried to ignore his thumping heartbeat. They still managed to take his breath away, even 9 years later. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“All the same,” the angel was saying, “I’d rather you didn’t go jumping off any more flying cars for the foreseeable future.” _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Crowley grinned a little crookedly, still thrown off by the transport. “I think we can make that a deal.” _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _…_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Ten Years Post Apoca-nope.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Aziraphale looked up from his book, suddenly wary. He’d lost track of time again, and the house was strangely quiet. Frowning, he looked over at the clock and realized that Debbie and Crowley should’ve been back by now. The annual Tadfield Halloween costume parade was that evening, only a few hours away now. Debbie had been panicking that morning, not having the final pieces for her costume, and Crowley had promised they would find it on time. Aziraphale hadn’t fancied a hectic drive in the Bentley, and chosen to stay behind. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _He hoped they’d be back on time. Crowley was going as Jed from Night At The Museum, and after much needling finally convinced him to come as Octavius. Sighing, Aziraphale set aside his book and started prepping the many pieces. It was horribly inaccurate according to actual Roman gear, but movie accuracy was Crowley’s aim, so he put up with it. Besides, it did look rather dashing._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Something thudded dully downstairs. Aziraphale peered out the window. No Bentley. Cautiously, he crept down the stairs, holding his fake sword at the ready and peering around the corner with all senses on high alert. A careful search revealed the house was empty, which made him feel slightly better. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Until the bedroom door slammed shut behind him, and someone screamed._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Instantly his whole body was thrown back two feet against the wall, wind whipping through the living room like a small hurricane. It took a second for his eyes to refocus. When they did, he saw Debbie in a black leather jacket, hair greased back dramatically and spooky eyeliner. She stopped screaming and grinned as a tiny drop of blood ran down her nose. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Bitchin’,” she smirked. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Anathema and Crowley doubled over with laughter, peering in front the window. Crowley snapped a picture with his phone._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Who the FUCK let this child watch Stranger Things?” Aziraphale yelled, clutching at his chest as the adrenaline threatened to knock him over. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Mum finally agreed,” Debbie grinned, miracling the blood away. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Her co-conspirators re-entered the house, Crowley wiping tears from the corner of his eyes. Aziraphale turned to Anathema, who was dressed as Elphaba and smiling quietly. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Really? All these years of strict no magic, no fantasy, no nothing? And then this?” _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Anathema shrugged. “I…couldn’t see the harm in it,” she said. Her voice sounded strange, almost sick. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“I wanted to wait until I was actually 11,” Debbie said. “But…you know.” _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _The room got very quiet, and very still. A car door slammed shut outside, breaking the silence. Newt had arrived, dressed as the Scarecrow. Debbie brightened within seconds, ignoring the issue as usual. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“C’mon, let’s go!” _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Aziraphale looked at Anathema, who was staring at the floor. “Why?” he asked simply. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“It’s her last Halloween,” Anathema choked. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Crowley inhaled sharply. “Four months.” _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Unless she stops it,” Aziraphale said, sounding desperately hopeless. “She will stop it, won’t she?” _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Nobody answered._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter might take awhile to write. I'm rubbish at writing battle scenes but I want it to be a good ending. It may end up being 2 chapters, we'll see. Thanks everyone for hanging in there!
> 
> And yes, Aziraphale did quote Joey from Friends. You eat that cake, Aziraphale!


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter kind of got away from me so I'm splitting it into 2. So please don't worry, this is not the end.

_11.5 years post Armageddidn’t._   
_10 years, 364 days after the Apoca-nope._   
_1 day until the End of the World. _

The tension had been building in the last month. A somber aura had fallen over Tadfield, and everyone felt it, even those who didn’t know angels and demons were living among them. People were quieter, spending more time with their families, laughing longer than usual, and putting aside petty differences without even knowing why. 

Pepper stopped accepting offers to come and speak at schools, even turned down an opportunity to speak at the U.N. She came home to be with Brian, and spend more time with her mother than she had in years. Brian gave out free treats to kids the whole month, and for once, Newt didn’t protest. Adam followed his lead and gave out free copies of his book to kids in the hospital, refusing to comment for the various news agencies that kept begging for interviews. Even Wensley stopped enjoying his sums. They four of them spent many afternoons together in their old haunt in the forest, resting in hammocks and reminiscing about the old days. 

Anathema and Newt took Debbie to Disneyland Paris, with Gabriel and Bee following at a distance, keeping them safe but allowing them to have time with just the three of them. Anathema’s mother came for one last visit, encouraging her daughter and granddaughter that they had done well and Agnes would be proud. But for the most part, they didn’t talk about it. They walked around Tadfield, visiting the bakery and the bookshop and forest where Anathema and Newt had gotten married nearly 10 years ago. They had taken an anniversary trip to Venice a few months before. 

Crowley spent more and more time in the garden, almost desperately rearranging and replanting the flowers, yelling at them to grow better. He stayed out for hours, until Aziraphale gently coaxed him inside, and they cuddled on the couch under a blanket and binge-watched Bake Off and blinked away tears. 

As battle plans were finalized, they decided to leave Tadfield, taking the battle to a more open location where there would be limited damage. If they were going to win the war and the world would continue, they didn’t want to destroy Tadfield in the process. Which is why they were now currently crammed into a small hotel room in a tiny town in Kansas. The Pulsifers, Aziraphale, and Crowley had crowded onto one bed, Debbie sitting in Crowley’s lap with pink fuzzy pajamas and hugging her stuffed unicorn tightly. The Them, all 21 at this point, had taken over the other bed, graciously giving Tracy and Shadwell the only chairs in the room. Dog had already transformed back into his Great Dane form, taking up far too much space on the floor. Bee perched in the windowsill watching the sun set over the empty prairie, holding Gabriel’s hand as he stood beside them. Michael and Dae did their best to stand unassumingly by the door, though Michael was halfway in the bathroom anyway. 

“So,” Gabriel started, doing his best impression of an office manager that was not bothered by the fact the building was currently on fire. “Tomorrow’s the Big One.” 

“You’ve said that twice already,” Bee said dryly.

“Yes, but tomorrow is the Actual Big One. The one that Will instead of the ones that Didn’t. For better or for worse.” 

“Better,” Anathema said firmly. 

“That is our goal,” Gabriel nodded. “Now, the sniper tower is being set up as we speak for Shadwell and Tracy. You’ll have an unlimited supply of arrows and…whatever it is you put in that gun, plus an endless amount of Holy Water. Uriel and Eric are putting up some spells to keep the Demons out. Hopefully they’ll be unbreakable…but no guarantees since Hastur’s involved.” 

“Och, we’ll be fine,” Shadwell said, patting his witch-killing gun affectionately. Tracy had tried to convince him that he didn’t actually need to bring it to the final meeting, but he had insisted. “And if we go, we’ll make sure to take a bunch more out with us. Might as well go out with a bang!” 

“That’s one way to look at it!” Gabriel said encouragingly. He turned to the Them. “Your swords are also going to be enchanted to consistently drip holy water so they’ll destroy any Demons you come into contact with.” 

“PLEASE don’t hit the ex-demons,” Bee said emphatically. 

“You really have so little faith in us?” Pepper asked. “‘Course we won’t.” 

“Flaming swords still work?” Gabriel continued. 

“Tested them when we got here,” Aziraphale confirmed, nodding. “Both in good shape.” 

“Good. Now, we have a small group assigned to surround the Pulsifiers to keep Debbie safe. That includes myself, Bee, Michael, Dae, Uriel, Eric, Adam, and a few dozen others you don’t know. Should be enough to form at least three unbreakable lines of defense while Debbie works her magic. On no account will we move, even if it means allowing a Demon to get away unharmed. Debbie, you must stay on the ground at all times, flying only if the defenses fail, got it?” 

Debbie nodded, then twisted to look up at Crowley. “What about you and uncle Azi?” 

“We’re going to chase down the Demons who get away,” Aziraphale said.

“We’ll stay as close as we can get,” Crowley promised. “But we don’t have powers anymore, so it won’t be as safe for you.” 

Debbie squeezed her eyes shut and concentrated hard. Her own wings popped out of the other dimension subconsciously. 

“Do you feel any different now?” she asked breathlessly after a moment. 

Aziraphale wiggled experimentally, trying to get in touch with his lost wings. He shook his head and met Crowley’s eyes sadly. “Nothing.” 

Debbie slumped back into Crowley’s arms, tucking her wings away again. “Sorry.” 

“Nothing to apologize for,” Crowley said gently. 

“Any last questions?” Gabriel asked. “Is everyone clear?” 

“When will they come?” Wensley asked. “Like, will they show up at midnight, or actual morning?” 

“Dunno,” Bee shrugged. “Depends on how well Hastur has them organized. And if they figure out we’ve moved. They may go to Tadfield first.” 

“Let’s hope they don’t ransack the place in anger,” Adam sighed. 

“Nothing we can do about it now,” Michael said. “We’ll just have to do our best.” 

“We’ll be fine,” Gabriel grinned unconvincingly. “We’ve got two antichrists on our side. What could go wrong?” 

“Oh, no, don’t say that,” Aziraphale groaned. “That’s the worse cliche ever. You say that, and then everything will go wrong.” 

“What’s a cliche?” Gabriel asked. 

“Never mind,” he sighed, rubbing his forehead wearily. 

“Right,” Tracy said firmly, rising from her chair. “I suggest everyone gets back to their own rooms and get some rest. I know it’s early for some of you youngsters, but if they show up at the crack of dawn, you’ll thank me.” 

They all silently said their farewells, giving last hugs and handshakes before slipping off to their rooms. 

…

Crowley wouldn’t stop pacing, even after Aziraphale had slipped into his pajamas. 

“You’re not helping anyone by doing that, you know,” he said quietly. 

“Yeah, well it’s hard to sleep when you feel like you’re on fire,” he snapped. “And I know Hastur’s got something planned for tonight anyway.”

Aziraphale was silent, just watching for a minute. He knew that wasn’t all. Crowley kept pacing, stopping every few seconds and acting like he was about to speak, then roughly shook his head and kept moving. 

“I’ss not fair,” he said abruptly, staring out the window. 

“Which part?” 

“Everything.” 

“But which part is making you wear the floors down?” 

Crowley turned, staring at him wide eyed. “You know which part,” he said, voice breaking. 

Aziraphale moved to join him, gently slipping their hands together. “You know, there was a time when we thought that one night was all we’d get before it all ended. We’ve had eleven years.” 

“But I wanted more.” The dam broke, tears slipping from his eyes as he leaned into Zira’s touch. “Eleven years…that’s…that’s nothing for us.” 

“Is it? Because for me it’s been the longest 11 years of my life.” 

Crowley managed a half smile. “Am I really that terrible to be around?” he croaked. 

Zira chuckled softly. “I mean, I know it’s not when compared to the 6,000 we had before…but not for humans. Imagine how it’s been for Gabriel and Bee. It’s been no time at all for them. They’re still so much separated from time that they were saying the other day how fast it’s come up. They’d literally lost track of time. But we didn’t. We got 11 years in human time, slower.” 

Crowley closed his eyes and rested his forehead against Aziraphale’s. He knew what was coming next. He could feel the tension as Zira tried to formulate the words. But he didn’t want to hear it. 

“Maybe…” he began softly. 

Crowley shook his head ever so slightly. “Don’t,” he whispered hoarsely. 

Aziraphale paused, but the weight of the realization was too much. He continued anyway. “Maybe that’s why She didn’t give us back our wings.” 

Crowley choked back a sob. He didn’t like the implications behind that statement. It seemed so final, like they were going to lose so they needed as much time as possible. Zira cupped one hand on Crowley’s face, cradling it gently. 

“Look at me, love.” 

Crowley forced his eyes to open and blinked through the tears to focus. 

“We’ve had 11 wonderful years together, and for that I’m more thankful than anything. But let’s not waste the last night.” 

Crowley let himself fall then, meeting Zira’s lips with his own. He let the warmth overtake him, fully distracting his mind from the terror of tomorrow as he melted into his husband’s arms, kissing him like the world was ending. 

Because, well, it was. 

…

“Rise and shine!” Tracy called, rapping sharply on the door. “Hell is on the move!” 

Crowley wrapped his arms tighter around Aziraphale, squeeing his eyes shut. “Please be a nightmare,” he moaned. 

“No,” Aziraphale sighed, moving to rise. Crowley held him back. 

“Now, boys!” Tracy yelled, more sharply than before. 

“Fuck,” Crowley said, jumping out of bed. 

The prairie was no longer empty, as 12 million soldiers had gathered in preparation, a salt and pepper blend of wings fluttering in anticipation. The sun looked like it had only risen a few hours ago, lazily starting its climb. He swallowed hard. 

“Oh, for Pete’s sake, Crowley!” Aziraphale cried, sounding slightly flustered. “Don’t stand in front of the window without pants!!” 

Tracy snorted outside. 

She eyed them suspiciously when they stepped out a few moments later, dressed but still looking slightly disheveled. 

“I certainly hope you got _some_ sleep last night,” she said pointedly. __

_ _“Erm, well you see…” Aziraphale started. Crowley elbowed him and he stopped. _ _

_ _Tracy winked. “Thin walls, boys.” _ _

_ _“Oh good Lord.” _ _

_ _“Don’t worry,” Bee said dryly as she passed. “Adam made it quieter after the first bit.” _ _

_ _They snapped, and suddenly both Crowley and Aziraphale felt very refreshed, although still beet-red._ _

_ _“Thanks,” Crowley muttered as he followed them out. _ _

_ _“Don’t mention it,” Bee sighed. “Seriously, don’t.” _ _

_ _The Pulsifers stood outside, waiting for Adam. Debbie had her hair pulled back, dressed like El in Season 3, with a blue spotted shirt and teal suspenders, straight out of the 80s. The only difference was her scarlet wings, poised and ready for takeoff if needed. It was her battle outfit, and she looked ready. Until she saw Crowley, and her facade crumbled a bit. _ _

_ _“Happy birthday,” Crowley whispered as he hugged her close. She was shaking. _ _

_ _“I’ss not very happy.” _ _

_ _“Well, when it’s over, and we win, we’ll make it a good one, yeah?” _ _

_ _“I don’t know if I can do it,” she said. _ _

_ _“I know you can,” Crowley promised. _ _

_ _“You do?” _ _

_ _“Of course I do. I’ve never doubted you for a second.” _ _

_ _“You’ll do just fine, my dear,” Aziraphale added. _ _

_ _Debbie moved to hug him, too. She looked back at her parents. _ _

_ _“If something happens to mum and dad, then you’ll take care of me, right?” _ _

_ _“Of course,” Aziraphale said. “We’re your godfathers.” _ _

_ _“But what if something happens to you, too?” _ _

_ _“Then we will,” the Them said simultaneously. They had come down from the rooms unnoticed. _ _

_ _“You’re not alone, Debbie,” Pepper promised. “And you won’t ever be.” _ _

_ _Debbie nodded, and even managed a slight smile. _ _

_ _“Ready?” Bee asked. _ _

_ _Everyone nodded grimly. _ _

_ _“Take your places then,” Gabriel said. “Good luck.” _ _

_ _…_ _

_ _There was no dramatic entrance, no climactic charge, no great clash against the two armies. Nine million proper Demons simply appeared fighting, no matter who was in their way. Tracy started. _ _

_ _“Oh. Oh they’re here. Oh, it’s started!” _ _

_ _She raised her crossbow and peered into the sights, miraculously perfected to her level of vision, and tried to get a fix on one. Shadwell raised his gun, yelling an old Scottish war cry, before pausing in dismay. _ _

_ _“They’re not on clear sides!” he yelled over the sudden cacophony. He turned to his wife rather sheepishly. “Er…you didn’t happen to bring an extra crossbow, did you?” _ _

_ _“Yes, dear,” she said calmly, releasing the arrow. “Under the sandwhiches.” _ _

_ _Shadwell moved the icebox with sandwhiches, because of course she had packed snacks, and found another crossbow. He dipped some arrows into the well of Holy Water between them, and got to work. He was surprised at how easy he could pick out the Demons. They were too close together to us a gun, true, but they were clearly distinct from the ex-Demons. It took him a minute to figure out why. _ _

_ _“The wings!” he cried suddenly. “Trace, look at the wings!” _ _

_ _Tracy lowered her bow for a minute, staring out at the bigger picture. She gasped in amazement. The Angels’ wings were darkening to grey, and the ex-Demons were lightening to match. The proper Demons stuck out like a sore thumb, black targets in a sea of grey. _ _

_ _“Did you do that?” Newt yelled down to Debbie. _ _

_ _She shook her head, marveling at Bee’s silvery feathers. _ _

_ _“Doesn’t matter, it helps us see them better!” Anathema cheered, firing her bow over Michael’s head. _ _

_ _“Right, c’mon Deb,” Adam said, hoisting her up onto his shoulders so she could get a better view of the battlefield. _ _

_ _They were stationed in the loft of an old barn, roof torn away from a tornado the week before. It was a clear target, but also the only place Adam and Debbie could work. She surveyed the battle playing out before her. It was overwhelming, and a lot to process, so she focused on the black wings. Most of the fight was taking place on the ground, as in-air-battles tended to require more energy and were harder to either side to win. _ _

_ _There was a small cluster of Demons not too far away, a group working together and causing havoc on the angelic ranks. She squinted, and a tree suddenly erupted from the ground right in the middle of them, scattering them so the angels could move in for the kill. _ _

_ _“Nice,” Adam said as he caused a trio to suddenly get tossed into the air by a geyser. _ _

_ _“Where’s uncle Az and uncle Crowley?” she suddenly cried, looking down where they had been only a few minutes before._ _

_ _“Already chasing down some Demons that got away,” Dae called over her shoulder. _ _

_ _“Stay focused,” Adam instructed. “They’ll be fine.” _ _

_ _…_ _

_ _Crowley might have been the best with techniques, but Aziraphale was definitely the more powerful fighter of the two, even when human. It was really no wonder he’d accidentally charged off a little farther than intended while Crowley’s back was turned and he’d lost him. He’d easily slipped into a cycle without a second thought, losing track of just about everything except what was right in front of him. _ _

_ _But now he was most definitely worried. He had managed to find the Them, at least the trio of sword fighters, completely by accident. _ _

_ _“Have you seen Crowley?” he yelled, nodding his thanks as Wensley caught a Demon from behind. _ _

_ _“No,” Brian yelled. “Not since the barn!” _ _

_ _Aziraphale bit his lip anxiously. _ _

_ _“He’s fine, don’t worry,” an angel called in passing. _ _

_ _“Oh, could you point me in his…” But the angel was already gone, and none of the other allies were paying attention. “Direction…” he finished lamely. _ _

_ _“Oi, focus!” Pepper said, stepping up and saving him last second from an approaching Demon. “If you don’t pay attention you’ll get yourself killed! Then you really won’t find Crowley again.” _ _

_ _“Quite right,” Aziraphale said, lifting his sword back into position. _ _

_ _He wondered, a little while later, how the three of them had managed to stay so close together. He’d lost them again only a few minutes later. Or it could have been an hour. It was so hard to keep track of time in this mindless thing called war._ _

_ _…_ _

_ _“Damn it, Hastur!” Uriel shrieked abruptly. “They’ve already torn down our defenses!” _ _

_ _Debbie’s eyes went to the treehouse, as she thought of it anyway, where Tracy and Shadwell were desperately firing arrows and dumping Holy Water onto a group of Demons who were trying to scale the tree. She focused and a small dark cloud appeared, raining only around the tree. _ _

_ _“Bless it, bless it!!” she yelled. _ _

_ _Michael muttered something under her breath and the Demons spontaneously combusted. Adam snapped and Tracy and Shadwell were both dry again, and remained that way despite the continuous rainfall. They cheered and waved. _ _

_ _“Well done,” Anathema smiled. _ _

_ _“Charge incoming!” Gabriel yelled. _ _

_ _Two dozen Demons raced toward them with blood-curdling screams. Growling, Dog leaped over the protective angels and raced into the fray, sinking his teeth into any Demon he could get a hold of. Adam made sure none of the Demons could get close to him, either hurtling them through the air or causing their feet to sink into randomly appearing prairie dog holes. Debbie raked her hand through the air in their direction, and several fell to the ground, bleeding intensely before discorporating. It worked for awhile, until a new wave started advancing. Then there were too many to properly focus on, and it was very easy to lose track. _ _

_ _Anathema screamed as the Demons broke through their first line of defense, the one stationed on the ground. More angels were rushing to replace them, trying to keep the rest at bay, but a few had still gotten past. An arrow came flying toward them, but Debbie threw out her hands and produced a purple-tinted forcefield without hesitation, just like in training. She grinned at Anathema. _ _

_ _“See, I told you watching superhero movies would help me.” _ _

_ _“Can you turn invisible too?” Anathema asked. _ _

_ _“Wouldn’t help,” Bee said. “They’d still be able to sense her aura if necessary.” _ _

_ _Debbie turned the arrow around and sent it straight back to it’s sender. Bullseye. _ _

_ _A few of the Demons had made it to the loft, snarling viciously as they attacked the second line of defense. One of them had a huge sword that cut one of the angels down and swung dangerously close to Dae. _ _

_ _“Expelliarmus!” Debbie cried, mentally shattering the sword as it sung out over the field. _ _

_ _The Demon looked terrified for all of 2 seconds before Dae managed to strike. More angels arrived to help hold them back, and the four of them could breathe for a moment. Debbie looked out and found Brian, Pepper, and Wensley, fighting with their back to each other as they fended off Demons. They seemed to be doing remarkably well, as none of their encounters were lasting very long. Crowley had taught them well. She tried to find her godfathers, but then another wave of Demons approached, and she had to refocus. _ _

_ _…_ _

_ _Whatever Bee had done that morning, Crowley could still feel it. They’d been at this for hours, an endless barrage of sword fights, one victim after the other falling to the flames. And still, despite the alarming lack of sleep the night before, he still had all the energy he could want. In fact, it almost felt like he was immortal again. His hopes were quickly dashed when Sandalphon managed to land a small cut on his face. Sandalphon was vanquished quickly, but Crowley couldn’t do anything about the wound. Still human, just with blessed occult energy from good old Lord Bee. _ _

_ _He’d lost Aziraphale at some point. They had tried their best to stay together, but somehow they’d gotten separated once they left the shadow of the barn. Crowley tried really hard not to think about it. He couldn’t just go running off to find him. That’d be far too dangerous. Besides, any Demons he could strike down now was just one less Demon who could get Zira. _ _

_ _It was fine. He knew they’d be fine. _ _

_ _Just focus. Focus on the Demons. Lunge here, parry there, block, now strike. _ _

_ _Don’t think about it. _ _

_ _…_ _

_ _“Any chance I could get an energy boost?” Anathema called, crossbow dropping at her side. Someone snapped and her strength returned. “Thanks!” _ _

_ _Debbie was glad she already had an endless amount of energy. She would be exhausted by now if otherwise. The sun was high overhead now, which meant they’d been at this for several hours. Shadwell and Tracy had already ducked down in the treehouse for a sandwich break, and she’d been making sure to keep a closer eye on them in case of trouble. _ _

_ _The Demons seemed to attack without ceasing. The front lines had broken again, though at this point they weren’t concerned until the second line had broken. Apparently, Hastur had organized a very efficient discorporation system, meaning that unless they were completely and utterly destroyed by Holy Water or a burst of angelic power (which Bee, Dae, and the other ex-Demons now seemed to possess), they would pop right back up again almost instantaneously. _ _

_ _It had seemed so simple, when they had explained it to her. Nine million Demons against the Eleven million of Adam’s Army. Should be over quickly if we outnumber by that much, Debbie had thought at the time. But she hadn’t counted on the enormous celestial powers on both sides. It was making it very tricky to figure out who was currently winning. _ _

_ _The second line broke, and several things happened at once. Anathema sent a well-placed shot between Bee and Gabriel’s shoulders, knocking out two in one. One of the angels had been drawn a few steps away, creating a small gap where Newt suddenly found himself trying to fill in. It was unbearably small quarters as the lines tried to close protectively around the antichrists, a sword cut through and hit Adam’s arm. He cried out in pain and knelt to the ground, trying to heal it quickly. Debbie jumped off his shoulders, trying to help, but in doing so became momentarily distracted…just like everyone else around her. _ _

_ _Thick scaly arms wrapped around her, clamping over her mouth so she couldn’t even scream, before jumping into the air. Her wings fluttered uselessly against the Demon’s broad chest, and she kicked her legs in defiance. _ _

_ _“DEBBIE!!” Anathema screamed. _ _

_ _Michael, Dae, and Uriel launched after her, while Gabriel and Bee desperately tried to stop the other Demons from going after them. The battle had taken to the skies._ _

_ _…  
Aziraphale didn’t notice the sudden upward commotion. No, he was far too concerned with something—or someone—else. _ _

_ _Hastur. _ _

_ _He had emerged, maggots and all, up from the dirt several yards in front of him. And oh, was he reveling in the chaos, in the absolute pain of it all, a sick, twisted grin spread across his pale, grimy face. _ _

_ _Aziraphale had never truly hated anything or anyone ever before, not even Gabriel. He had seen the worst of humankind over the last 6,000 years, everything from the crimes recorded in history to the ones that went unnoticed behind closed doors. But he was an Angel, he couldn’t hate anybody (except maybe Satan, but that was up for debate and he tried not to think about it), because they were just humans. Beautifully flawed humans who always had a chance for redemption and forgiveness, and just went off the wrong path, that’s all. Righteous anger? Most definitely. Contempt? Check. But hate? Never. _ _

_ _Except for Hastur. _ _

_ _The pure, raw emotion that suddenly overtook him nearly knocked him over, and he quite literally saw red. It took him a second to name the emotion, but he more than despised Hastur. Aziraphale absolutely _hated_ him. Hated him with a furious passion only rivaled by his love for Crowley. Or perhaps that’s what fueled it. _ _ __

__

__

_ _He hated him for all the years he had bullied Crowley, for the way he was constantly popping in and out with unwanted communications, the way he rejected any of Crowley’s plans, the way he sneered every time he saw him. He hated him for the nightmares, for the endless nights that Crowley had jolted awake trembling in fear. He hated him for trying to walk Crowley off a cliff (Bee had confirmed that one had been purely Hastur’s doing). _ _

_ _He didn’t just want Hastur to die. He wanted him to be tortured the way he had tortured Crowley. _ _

_ _It was probably the same feeling that Crowley had felt when he had clashed swords with Gabriel in California 11 years ago. Possibly even worse. _ _

_ _Hastur saw him, a mad, deranged spark lit up his soulless eyes. His demonic grin widened, and he raised a hand to the sides, indicating to the other Demons not to interfere. No, this was personal. _ _

_ _Aziraphale’s face hardened, and he charged forward._ _

_ _…_ _

_ _Debbie squirmed, but the Demon was far too strong for her to break free just on her own. Michael and Uriel were close, reaching out to catch a foot or a leg, but they hadn’t quite caught up yet. Debbie was terrified that he’d take her back to Hell, put her in chains that she really couldn’t get out of even with her powers. _ _

_ _Just hurt him, she thought. Just hurt him enough to let you go. _ _

_ _With her arms pinned to her side and her legs uselessly kicking against thin air, there was really only one option. She leaned into him, pressing her back into his chest, before suddenly releasing a sharp set of spines down her back. The Demon howled in pain and she dropped abruptly. Dae caught her and they plummeted further down together, letting Michael and Uriel deal with the unlucky Demon. _ _

_ _Debbie unfurled her wings and held Dae’s hand tightly, looking down at the mess of Angels and Demons fighting below. Nearly a quarter of them were in the air now, chasing each other through the sky. Suddenly her breath caught her in throat as she saw the shadows projected onto the flat prairie grass. _ _

_ _“You alright?” Dae asked. _ _

_ _Debbie looked up at her, eyes wide. “I’ve got an idea.” _ _

_ _Adam came flying unsteadily up to them, sporting a nice pair of heron wings of his own. Michael joined them in surprise. _ _

_ _“I didn’t know you could do that,” she said. _ _

_ _“I couldn’t,” Adam said, wobbling and looking a bit queasy. “I’d tried before but it never worked until today.” _ _

_ _“Adam,” Debbie interrupted. They could talk about wings later if this worked. “Remember how you said you froze everybody last time?” _ _

_ _“Yeah?” _ _

_ _“I need you to do it again.” _ _

_ _…_ _

_ _As sword fights go, it was not the most elegantly choreographed in the universe. Neither Hastur or Aziraphale cared about styles or techniques, they just wanted the other dead. Raw, feral energy poured out of both of them as they attacked, completely ignoring everything going on around them. _ _

_ _Aziraphale had no idea where they were, he only had the one, overwhelming thought that he just needed to kill Hastur. Kill him so that the nightmares would end. Kill him for Crowley. He wasn’t fighting carefully like he normally did. His movements were clumsy and rough. And on top of that he was starting to get tired; his limbs felt sluggish and the sword seemed heavier than it had ever been in his life. _ _

_ _It was not a good combination._ _

_ _Hastur suddenly surged forward, moving on the offensive now. Aziraphale was forced backwards, unable to hold him at bay. His feet moved quickly as Hastur advanced, but he was still holding his own quite well, matching him blow for blow, sword against sword. _ _

_ _Then he felt his foot sink into a hole, probably from one of those blasted prairie dogs. He lost his balance for a second, but it was enough. Hastur knocked the sword out of his hands before he could blink. _ _

_ _ _Aziraphale felt the blade pierce through his gut, and fell to his knees, gasping as the air seemed to leave his body and his eyes began to water fiercely. Hastur stood over him, grinning as he gave the sword a slight twist. He cried out then, hands clenching fistfuls of dirt in pain. _ _ _

__

__

_ _“And thus the nightmare becomes reality,” Hastur hissed. _ _

_ _Dimly, Aziraphale felt something hard and cold next to his left hand._ _

_ _“We have…angels…on our side…you know,” he gasped. “They can…heal me…”_ _

_ _He moved his fingers over half an inch, wrapping around the handle and trying to get a firm grip._ _

_ _“They won’t have time,” Hastur cackled. “Look how far away we are.” _ _

_ _Looking over his shoulder, Aziraphale could see most of the battle was in the air now, and they were a good mile away at least. Although the Demons had done their best to surround their HQ, the Angels had done their job and drawn them away, so the barn and treehouse were on the outskirts of the battle, rather than the middle. Aziraphale swallowed painfully. _ _

_ _“I only wish Crowley were here to watch you die,” Hastur continued, eyes dancing. “Perhaps he’ll make it, even if nobody helpful can.” _ _

_ _“Too bad…you won’t…get to see his face,” Aziraphale spat. _ _

_ _With the last remains of his strength, he swung the sword up heavily, digging into Hastur’s skin. The Demon cried out and fell to the ground, but a few seconds later he started laughing, even as black blood oozed from his side. _ _

_ _“I don’t need to see it,” he said. “I’ve already seen it 665 times in his dreams.” _ _

_ _Aziraphale lifted the sword again, ready to just behead him, when Hastur exploded in a mess of maggots and goo. The flaming sword fell to the ground with a dull thunk, and the pain hit Aziraphale full force. He pulled the sword out, screaming in agony. Panting, he collapsed fully into the grass, looking back at the battle. The Demons had been frozen and pulled into the sky, with the Angels looking on from below in a strange role reversal. It looked like they were going to win._ _

_ _If only that had happened just a few minutes sooner. Then everything would be alright. _ _

_ _Part of him hoped beyond hope that someone would make it to him in time, that he’d survive this and he and Crowley would continue their lives as if nothing had happened. But deep down, he knew it wasn’t true. He could feel the life slowly ebbing away, something that had only happened once in his life, before Crowley had managed to save him mid-discorporation. He blinked, trying to focus on the battle. _ _

_ _Yeah, he was pretty sure he was hallucinating now too. Didn’t that sometimes happen to humans just before death? _ _

_ _Ignoring the giant dragon that had suddenly appeared, Aziraphale forced his tired eyes heavenward. _ _

_ _“Please,” he prayed, voice hoarse. “I just…want to see him…one more time…”_ _


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you don't know what a Scauldron is, you can find pictures here: https://howtotrainyourdragon.fandom.com/wiki/Scauldron
> 
> They're from How to Train Your Dragon.

“I’m sorry,” Adam said, eyes wide in disbelief. “You’re going to try to do WHAT?!? I thought we agreed not to try new things during the battle?!?”

“I can do this,” Debbie said insistently. “Besides, it’s not like I haven’t shape shifted before.”

“Not into a fucking DRAGON!!” 

“Adam, please,” Michael said, shooting him a look. 

“Sod off,” Debbie said, rolling her eyes. “If you think I don’t know how to bloody curse by now then you’re mistaken. Hell, I grew up with Crowley.”

Michael blinked, slightly taken aback. 

“Make sure the ex-Demons are out of the way so I don’t spray them and then we’re fine.” 

“You don’t know that!” Adam said. “What if you can’t turn back into a human?”

“Good thing we have another antichrist then.” 

The Demons seemed to realize both antichrists were in easy reach, floating relatively unprotected a few yards off the ground. Debbie put up another force field and looked at Adam calmly. 

“Ok, but if your parents and godfathers want to kill me after this, you have to be the one to protect me, got it?”

Debbie nodded, and Adam suddenly plummeted to the ground, freezing the battlefield into a perfectly still tableau. Debbie landed some distance away, somewhere relatively empty where she could change without hurting anyone. Her parents were rushing toward her, and she knew she needed to act fast. Adam started lifting the Demons into the air, keeping the Angel soldiers firmly on the ground. Her first thought was Smaug, but she quickly dismissed the idea. Wrong kind of dragon. A scauldron would do quite nicely. She squeezed her eyes shut and started picturing what it looked like. Long green neck with a bulging water pouch under its throat, with large enough wings for support. When she opened her eyes, she found herself several yards above the ground, looking down on her terrified parents. She tried to smile assuredly, but judging by the looks on their faces hadn’t done so successfully. Debbie turned to face the Demon hoard, caught frozen in the air. 

“This is your last chance to come back to our side,” she said, voice echoing loudly. “Anyone who wishes to repent and surrender drop to the ground. Otherwise, come at me.”

She gave them a moment to think on it, focusing as she miracled water into her cheeks. Michael and Gabriel joined her on either side, looking only slightly disturbed as they performed the blessing. Debbie nodded at Adam, who released the Demons in an instant. Quite a few actually fell to the ground, arms over their heads in surrender. Adam quickly put a protective force field over them. 

The remaining Demons charged, obviously not acquainted with the water spraying dragon from a children’s series. Debbie blew a steady stream of Holy Water into their ranks, flying over them to get as many as possible. Several more dropped to the ground, shaking in fear as their brethren melted around them. The original Angels rallied her, fighting back the Demons that managed to escape the fountain and tried to attack her flanks. She kept refilling and the archangels kept blessing, until only a few minutes later no more remained except those on the ground, screaming their surrender. Adam’s Army had them surrounded in seconds, swords still drawn and making sure it wasn’t a bluff. Adam and Debbie looked at each other curiously. 

“Is that it?” she asked. 

“Well,” Adam began. “We still have to deal with...”

The earthquake started before he could finish. Adam nodded grimly. They’d expected him at some point. Two giant horns ripped through the earth as Satan himself reared his ugly head. Quite literally. He scowled at the Demons, who looked even more terrified now. 

“HOW DARE YOU SURRENDER?!?!?” he yelled. Debbie felt the vibrations in her bones. “YOU TAKE YOUR ORDERS FROM ME AND ME ALONE!! RISE UP, MY DEMONS!!! FIGHT BACK, YOU COWARDS!!!”

“Actually,” Debbie said, feeling surprisingly calm. “I don’t think they’re yours anymore.”

“OF COURSE THEY ARE, HELLSPAWN. JUST AS YOU ARE MINE. THEY ARE MY DEMONS AND THEY DO MY BIDDING!!”

“I don’t think they’re even Demons anymore. Not Angels either. Look at their wings.”

She turned her attention back to the quiet battlefield. There wasn’t a dark wing in sight. They were all silvery-gray. A middle ground. Satan growled at her, furious. 

“HOW DARE YOU, GIRL!?!!??!???” he roared. 

“I didn’t do anything,” she said truthfully. “I think it was all Her. I bet she’d probably let you back in too, if you asked nicely.”

Satan’s head burst into flames and his firsts pounded into the dirt, knocking the humans and even some angels off balance. 

“YOU THINK THAT AFTER ALL THIS TIME I WILL GO BACK?!?!?? WHY WOULD I WANT TO TO BACK TO THAT MISERABLE PLACE??? NO, THE EARTH SHALL BE DESTROYED, AND WE SHALL RULE TOGETHER, MY CHILDREN. WITH ME, YOU CAN...”

Debbie ignored him, filling her pouch with water. It sparked with energy as every single one of the 10.5 million angels, ex-Demons included, silently blessed the water. Satan didn’t notice, continuing to ramble about destroying and ruling the earth. She looked him straight in the eye. 

She had wondered, several weeks ago, if she would have to be the one to do this, to end it all. She had wondered if she would be able to kill him, not just practically, but if she even had it in her. But in the end, Debbie found it surprisingly easy.

Debbie, an 11 year old girl disguised as a dragon, spat at Satan. 

A flood of Holy Water washed over him, and he began screaming in agony, writhing as his skin melted and his soul burned. 

“THAT’S for stealing uncle Crowley’s memories!” she yelled as he disintegrated before her eyes. “That’s for stealing my childhood! That’s for forcing 11 year old children to fight in a war they know nothing about!” 

As soon as he was gone, all her energy seemed to vanish, and she almost felt sick as the adrenaline left her. Quickly, she switched back into her normal form. Adam caught her and lowered her safely to the ground, where Anathema and Newt, a bit shell-shocked but otherwise ok, were waiting for her. For a few seconds, everyone stared at each other in shock. Then cheers erupted. 

They did it. 

They’d won. 

“That’s it?” Wensley asked. “Debbie turns into a dragon and it’s all over? This is highly illogical!”

“Well, I defeated War by saying ‘I believe in peace bitch,’ so it kind of does,” Pepper pointed out. 

“Never underestimate the power of a child’s imagination,” Tracy said, coming up to join them. “Well done, all of you.”

Crowley came racing up to them. “Have you seen Aziraphale?!?” he gasped, bending over double to catch his breath. 

He’d found everyone else, seen they were safe. The Pulsifers and Adam were right behind him, looking concerned. Shadwell shook his head. 

“Not from the tower,” he said. 

Crowley glanced around anxiously. “AZIRAPHALE!!” he screamed, cupping his hands around his mouth to make his voice louder. “Has anyone seen my husband?!??!?!”

The Angels around them were far too loud for him to be heard, and to happy to be paying attention anyway. Debbie shifted in her father’s arms, momentarily returning to the sky. 

“Uncle Azi!!!” she called. 

“I can’t sense his aura,” Anathema said, covering her ears so she could focus. “There’s too many people around.”

Debbie twisted in the air, then froze. A chill descended on the group. She pointed silently, and Crowley took off.

“Move it!” he yelled, pushing Angels out of the way. Debbie has snapped into motion, flying ahead of him to lead the way. “Zira!!” 

There was a sharp whistle from Gabriel, and all the Angels simultaneously jumped into the air, clearing a path. Heart racing, Crowley looked ahead, spotting the small bundle of tweed and tartan curled up in the prairie grass. He felt sick. 

It was like the bookshop all over again. Every nightmare replayed. Only real. This time, it was all too sickeningly real. 

“No no no no no no no,” he murmured, forcing his legs to move again. “Please, God, NO!!!”

The pain and exhaustion disappeared, legs running like they did when he was younger, not caring about age or distance or gravity. They ached only in that they ached to run, muscles stretching perfectly, maximum stride reached easily. He could run forever like this. He’d run into Hell and back. 

Crowley didn’t notice the silver wings explode from his back. He didn’t realize he was flying, only that the distance was closing and suddenly he was there, and Aziraphale was in his arms. Still breathing, but barely. 

“Zira?” he croaked. “C’mon, angel, look at me.”

Aziraphale slowly wrenched open his eyes, trying to focus on the blurry image in front of him. He tried to speak, but all that came out was a low groan as a fresh wave of pain hit him. Crowley was being as gentle as possible, but it still hurt to move. 

“It’s ok,” Crowley said. “It’s ok, I’m here. I’m here. You’re going to be ok.”

Aziraphale looked up at him with shining eyes. There was so much he wanted to say, but his mouth wasn’t working and good lord it hurt so badly. He tried to say it with his eyes instead. 

I’m sorry. I love you. It’s going to be ok. You’re going to be ok. I love you. 

“Don’t you dare leave me,” Crowley said, looking back over his shoulder briefly. “We saved the world, Zira. We did it. We won. There’s no more Demons. Everyone’s on one side. We can go back to Tadfield. We can live out the rest of our lives together. We can...”

Aziraphale reached out a feeble hand and grabbed Crowley’s shirt, tugging it down slightly. He kept tugging, minuscule movements that brought Crowley lower and lower, until finally he could kiss him. It was tender and soft, barely there and only lasting a few seconds. He sank back into Crowley’s arms, eyes closed and breathing shallowly. Just waiting. Waiting for it all to end. 

“Don’t you dare,” Crowley sobbed. Gabriel, Bee and Adam had caught up and he turned to them wildly. “Do something! Heal him!”

“I’ve been trying the whole time,” Gabriel said, confused. 

Bee dropped to their knees and held their hands out over Aziraphale’s body. Their face went deathly pale. 

“It’s Hastur,” they said. “He poisoned him with...with...I don’t know what it is, but it’s something from Hell. It’s not just killing his body...it’s killing his soul.” 

“So what?” Crowley said. “You can’t heal a soul? You’re the archangel fucking Gabriel!! DO SOMETHING!!”

“I’m trying!” Gabriel yelled back. 

“Adam?” Crowley asked, voice breaking. 

Adam was staring at his hands, held tensely in front of him. He stared up at Crowley in shock. 

“I...I can’t do anything. I don’t have powers.”

“My wings!” Debbie cried. 

“They’re not needed anymore,” Bee said quietly. 

“We’re in the End Times,” Gabriel added. 

A cold wind whipped around them, howling like the first breath of a winter storm. The air tasted like magnets and electricity and, for some reason, apples. Dark clouds appeared out of thin air, covering the whole atmosphere. Thunder rolled across the sky, powerful and yet nonthreatening. Something was different. The world was changing. 

“No, no no no no,” Crowley moaned, holding Aziraphale tighter. 

He screamed in anguish, rocking back and forth as hot tears spilled from his eyes as the first rain drops fell from the heavens. Aziraphale’s eyelids fluttered, but they didn’t open. Sobbing, Crowley wrapped his wings around them protectively. His angel was dying and there was nothing he could...

His head snapped up abruptly. “I have wings...”

“Yeah, not sure how that happened,” Gabriel began. 

“Shut up! I got my wings back...why didn’t he??”

“The poison?” Bee offered lamely. They were really over their head with this one. 

Crowley looked up at the dark sky, blinking away the tears and the rain. His hands shook. 

“Not good enough,” he snarled. 

He scooped Aziraphale into his arms and spread his wings wide. It was gonna be one hell of a test flight. 

Well, heaven really. 

Crowley leapt into the air with ease, wings pumping vigorously as he flew up and up and up and up...

They snapped into the heavenly plane with a bolt of lightening. Crowley gasped at the sudden transfer, tightening his grip on Zira so as not to drop him. Thankfully, it was decidedly more pleasant than the Croatia teleports. They were in the throne room, a large hall that was the length and width of Buckingham palace in of itself. It had been 6,000 years since Crowley had seen it, though admittedly it hadn’t changed much in that time aside from the TV monitors around the room. The biggest one was focused on Kansas, where the Angels’ celebration continued. Sound of Music played quietly in the background, where the soft silhouettes of Maria and the Captain declared their love in the gazebo. 

“Welcome home, Crowley,” a gentle voice said behind him, with all the gracefulness of cascading chimes. 

Crowley turned, startled even though he had been looking for Her. He dropped to his knees instantly, laying Aziraphale at Her feet like an offering. His breaths were stuttering now, painful just to listen to. 

“Heal him,” he begged, voice sharp with emotion and tinged with anger. “The other Angels and Demons got new wings, why didn’t he?!?!” 

She didn’t answer at first, just stared at him with the most sad, compassionate, mysterious look in Her eyes, the kind that drove Crowley mad. 

“If you’re going to say,” he growled, shaking, “that this is all part of the ineffable plan...” 

His voice hitched, and he couldn’t hold back his tears any longer. He hadn’t been truly, truly angry in a very long time, not since Gabriel had told Aziraphale to fucking die. But he hadn’t been able to yell about it then. He did now, with the kind of explosive anger that rips from your throat and grates in your voice and takes over your entire body, losing all control and scaring yourself. 

“THEN I DON’T WANT IT!! I DON’T WANT ANY PART OF IT, AND I’M SORRY I EVER HELPED IT ALONG!!!”

He broke into a sob, leaning over to grasp Zira’s hands. They were growing cold. 

“You were all for the ineffable plan once upon a time,” God said calmly. “Back during Armageddon when it meant you could stay with him. Isn’t it rather selfish to agree only when it benefits you?”

“I don’t care,” Crowley sobbed. “If Zira dies then I’d rather die with him. Even if it means going back to Hell, I don’t care. For once, I just want to be on the same side!”

“Oh, Crowley,” She sighed, so tenderly it was heartbreaking. “You really have fallen.”

“And I’d do it again,” Crowley whispered, fully aware of the blasphemy that spewed from his lips. “I’d Fall back into Hell and I’d Fall back to humanity if it would change anything.” 

“Oh my child, that’s not what I meant.” 

Crowley was about to protest further (or really ask questions, but it was all the same in Heaven, wasn’t it?) when she placed a hand on his face, like the touch of cool marble on a hot summer’s day, refreshing and oh so needed. The Love that flooded through Crowley was intense, every nerve in his body felt like it was on fire and plunging into snow and soaking in the sun on a cool fall day and diving into waves all at once. It was the wind whipping through his hair and his wings as he flew, the joy that filled him as he drove the Bentley 90 miles an hour, that warm fuzzy feeling when you’ve had just the right amount of alcohol and you’re laughing with a friend, the satisfaction of having dirt under your fingernails at the end of a good day’s gardening, the warm, delicious bite of a freshly baked cookie, that feeling when your favorite band hits just the right chord in your favorite song, and it was the light streaming in through the bookshop and lighting up the dust particles on a lazy Sunday afternoon. Essentially, it was the same feeling he got when Aziraphale beamed at him, only a thousand times over. 

The void of separation that had existed since the Fall was filled again, and Crowley was glad he wasn’t human anymore because he literally could not breathe. He tried, overstimulated by the sensation, but the weight of Her Love coming back physically sat on his chest and stopped it. It was blinding, a pure white light that filled his vision and sent even more tears to his eyes (and if Aziraphale weren’t dying, he’d probably be embarrassed by it). It was overwhelming, and yet he didn’t want it to stop. Wave after wave crashed over him, one after the other until he felt like he was drowning. 

And then two hands were on each side of his face, a soft forehead pressed against his and a voice whispering encouragingly. It was barely audible with everything else going on, but it was there, and he knew it immediately. 

“It’s alright, I’m here, I’m safe, we’re ok...” Zira whispered.

“Angel...” Crowley sobbed in relief.

He reached out into the never ending whiteness and found a shoulder. He pulled himself forward and buried himself in Zira’s neck, bracing himself as another wave of Love crashed into him. 

They were ok. 

They’d made it.

…

Debbie woke up feeling extremely confused. She was back in her own bed in Jasmine Cottage, only she couldn’t remember how she got there. The last thing she remembered was watching Crowley take off into the storm with Aziraphale. She had tried desperately to bring her wings back so she could follow, but nothing was working. Now everything felt back to normal. Everything was the same…and yet somehow entirely different. She shivered, and abruptly realized her wings were back.

She slipped out of bed and went downstairs. Newt and Anathema were talking in hushed whispers by the fire, but when they saw her they immediately stopped and hugged her close. Inside, the house was exactly as they’d left it. Then she caught a glimpse through the window, and gasped in amazement. Another Jasmine Cottage sat across the road, in perfect replica. 

“Why are there two Jasmine Cottages?” she asked. 

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” Anathema said. 

Cautiously, the little family went to the door and stepped out into the new world. There were no less than five replicas of Jasmine Cottage along the lane, each one looking slightly different. The old lady who’d they’d bought the house from stepped out across from them and waved, looking somewhat confused.

“I was in Stratford,” she called uncertainly. “What happened? Am I back in Tadfield?”

“Er…not sure at the moment,” Newt called back. 

She nodded understandingly. “Better than the nursing home anyway,” she shrugged. “Even if this is a dream.” 

There was a quick flutter of wings and Crowley landed beside them, grinning like anything as his silver feathers gleamed in the early morning sunshine. 

“Not a dream,” he said cheerfully. “Heaven. Well, sort of. Technically new earth.” 

“Did I die?” 

“Don’t think so. The world just ended. Day of Reckoning and all that.” 

“Ah. Well in that case, I think I’ll have a cuppa tea.” 

“Where’s Uncle Azi?” Debbie asked, jumping forward and grabbing his hand. 

“Don’t worry, he’s fine,” Crowley smiled. “Just gone to find the Them. He’ll be here in a minute. How’s the house?” 

“Perfect,” Anathema said. “You know that door that always squeaked and we could never fix it? It’s fine now. And the fireplace is re-modeled like I wanted but never got around to.” 

“Oh, that’s what changed,” Debbie realized. 

“You’ll probably find a lot of little things like that. Everyone will. See, each one of the houses has a family that lived in it during their time on earth. Inside, everything is exactly the same as it was for them, only everything’s fixed and the things they wanted to add have now been miraculously added. Same with the outside, too, only not as many differences.” 

“How does it all fit?” Newt asked. “I mean, if everything is suddenly in duplicate?” 

“Well that’s why it’s new earth. New limits of physical space. Everything’s been expanded a bit. Wensleydale is going to have a fit.” 

“Or a field day,” Anathema added. 

“Probably both,” Crowley agreed. 

“Uncle Azi!” Debbie suddenly yelled, dashing forward. 

Aziraphale and the Them had come round the corner, chattering up a storm. Everyone was talking at once, except Wensleydale, who had his nose stuck in a book titled “Everything you Thought was Wrong but is Actually Right,” nearly tripping over Dog as he walked. Debbie ran up to Aziraphale and hugged him tightly. 

“Hello, my dear,” he said fondly. 

“I thought you were gonna die,” she murmured. 

“Well we couldn’t let that happen, could we?” Crowley said, flashing a smile. 

“Where are you two living?” Newt asked Pepper. “Same apartment?” 

“No, we got a house!” Pepper said eagerly. “Literally, my dream house. Like She took it straight from Pinterest, all my favorite things. And it’s right next to my mum’s. It’s perfect.” 

“It’s got a downstairs movie theater,” Brian added. “Every movie ever made is in the collection. So we can have movie nights at our place all the time now.” 

“So you got a house without having to ever make a down payment?” Anathema exclaimed, slightly jealous. 

“If it makes you feel any better, Wensley just got a flat,” Adam said. 

“Huh?” Wensley looked up from the book in confusion. “Oh, hello Anathema. I didn’t realize we got here.” 

“That looks interesting,” Anathema said. “Can I read it when you’re finished?” 

“You have a copy too,” he explained. “They’re personalized for what you believed in.” 

“And there’s one called “Everything You Thought was Right but is Actually Wrong,”” Pepper added. “I still can’t believe the dinosaur thing.” 

“We did try to tell you,” Aziraphale sighed. “It’s your fault you didn’t believe us.” 

A car pulled up next to them, and Tracy and Shadwell hopped out, looking about 20 years younger but still very much the same. 

“Hello, dearies!” Tracy said cheerfully. 

“Mah joints don’t hurt for the first time in decades,” Shadwell grinned. 

“Oh my God, this is actually Heaven,” Newt said, running his hands through his hair as the full realization hit him. 

“What…what does it mean?” Debbie asked. 

“It means we can rest,” Anathema sighed with relief. She looked around at the others. “For the first time in my life, I can actually rest. I don’t have to do anything dictated by prophecies.” 

“No more battles to prepare for,” Crowley added. 

“We can go on as many adventures as we want,” Brian said excitedly. “We can go visit every place in the entire world…”

“We could meet people from history,” Adam realized. 

“As long as they made it here, of course,” Aziraphale said. “Not everybody did. Oh, but you could meet Agnes Nutter!” 

Silence. 

“Maybe in a month or two,” Crowley laughed. “There’s no hurry now. You have plenty of time to adjust. And there’s other things to see from history too, like the Seven Wonders of the World.”

“The Library of Alexandria was fully restored,” Aziraphale said, eyes lighting up. 

“Really?” Wensley asked, sounding excited. 

“Aztec Empire?” Pepper asked. 

“In all it’s glory,” Crowley said. 

“The land of Punt?” Wensley asked.

“Found at last,” Aziraphale sighed happily. 

“Are extinct animals back?” Adam asked. 

“Except for the dinosaurs, yes,” Crowley said.

“I’m starting to agree with our neighbor about tea,” Newt said. “My head is reeling.” 

“Go on, then,” Aziraphale said fondly. “Take a breather, you’ve earned it.” 

“You’re not joining us?” Anathema asked. 

“I had something else in mind,” he said, stretching his wings out behind him. “Been awhile since I had a nice long flight.” 

He looked over at Crowley, who was watching him curiously. 

“Race you to Alpha Centauri?” he asked. 

Crowley grinned. “I think it’s about time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And...SCENE! It is finished. 
> 
> Whew! I honestly meant for this to only be a 12 chapter fic and then somehow it got away from me. It's 92,000 words ya'll. It's longer than Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. This is a freakin' novel. Thanks for sticking through it, please leave a comment if you enjoyed! Seriously, even the shortest comments mean the world to me. 
> 
> If you're sad it's over, have no fear. My brain has dumped at least 3 more full stories and several one-shot/short stories. So. There will be more. Many, many more. Come follow me on Tumblr @Julia-Skysong-Fanficauthor for updates and sneak peeks!


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